


Special

by rosethomass (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: sabriel_mini, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rosethomass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's wife Jess dies in a tragic accident, leaving him and their autistic daughter Leigh heartbroken. After living with Sam's brother for a year, Sam decides to get a fresh start in his life and start moving on from the terrible loss. He moves into an apartment in the heart of the city that only has one real blessing about it: the bakery across the street. The coffee there is the best Sam's ever tasted and the pastries are absolutely to die for. Best of all, it's owned by two brothers, Gabriel and Castiel Novak, and Leigh is immediately smitten with them. The brothers are equally taken by her and they soon become Sam's closest friends. They help him raise Leigh and, at the same time, get his life back on track. Along the way, Sam finds himself drawn particularly to Gabriel, who's crude, loud, obnoxious, and nothing like what he's usually attracted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sabriel Mini Bang and it's my first challenge of any kind, so I'm really nervous. Beta'd by my absolutely wonderful and amazing [girlfriend](doctorcockles.tumblr.com) who puts up with so much of my crap she deserves some kind of award.
> 
> And a big THANK YOU to my absolutely FLAWLESS artist [wispchild](wispchild.livejournal.com)(LJ)/[honeystiel](honeystiel.tumblr.com)(Tumblr). She was an absolute joy to work with and she's stupidly talented and her illustrations are beautiful. Art post [here](http://wispchild.livejournal.com/1376.html). Thank you!

****

**JUNE**

**Monday**

The apartment wasn’t shabby or decrepit, but it wasn’t exactly high quality.

Sam still had his qualms about living in the city with a five year old. He much preferred a house in the suburbs, with a yard and a neighborhood park and kids playing down the street. Maybe somewhere he could have a pool.

That had always been the dream, but, of course, things change. Dreams need to be put aside so that circumstances could be dealt with.

The apartment was the best he could do since he’d had to sell the house for such a low amount, considering its state. At least the insurance had been enough to fix it up enough for some DIY-crazed, bored handy man to take on the house as his own pet project to restore to its previous glory, maybe make it even better. Sam didn’t care what the guy did with the house, he couldn’t have signed the papers and run away fast enough, getting as far away from the ghosts haunting the place.

At least Dean had let them stay with him till Sam found something new, and here he was. With something new.

New for him, at least. Because the building looked at least fifty years old, with more brick than paint on it. It was grey and sad-looking, but it was something. Sam was tired of mooching off of Dean.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though Leigh didn’t like the new place so much, which frankly sucked, because what could Sam do with an unhappy five year old?

Sam had left Leigh with Lisa, Dean’s girlfriend- or ex? Sam kept losing track- while Dean helped him move all of his things into the new apartment. Now everything was set up or in boxes waiting to be unpacked, and Sam felt it was time to introduce Leigh to her new home. He had wanted to go hunting with Leigh for a new place, to see which she liked, but his budget really hadn’t given him many options, and he just ended up going with the best one.

Now he was kind of starting to regret it, because once they were passing the entrance, about to go up the steps, Leigh’s eyes widened and she took a deep breath, tugging on Sam’s hand. She was only five years old, but she certainly had enough strength to stop all 220 lbs of her father and attempt to tug him in the opposite direction.

“Come on, Leigh,” Sam tried coaxing her. “You need to see where we’re going to live.”

“B-But Daddy-!” she started to whine, but Sam just sighed and bent down to pick her up, carrying her instead.

“No buts, Leigh. Come on, you’re going to love it.” He smiled widely while he said it, which made Leigh compulsively poke her finger into his dimple, just like she always did. It was a lie, of course, because the apartment sucked and Sam wasn’t too thrilled with it, but he just _couldn’t_ stay in Dean’s spare bedroom anymore. His dignity wouldn’t allow it. Besides, his therapist was right. It was time to start trying to build a new life for himself and his daughter, starting with a brand new place to live.

Sam carried her up the steps, because Leigh hated elevators. It had been one of his many concerns when he had first seen the place, but his options were extremely limited. And he’d much rather have Leigh take the stairs every day than scream every time the pipes in that one house groaned like a monster lived in the basement. At least she’d never go without exercise, especially seeing how they were on the fifth floor.

“Five, Daddy!” Leigh squealed when she saw the floor’s number beside of the stairway door. “J-Just like me!” She held up a hand, fingers stretched out wide to demonstrate every year she had lived.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Sam smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her palm.

Leigh pressed her finger to the dimple in Sam’s cheek. “Does that mean that w-when I turn six, we’ll l-live on floor number s-six?”

Sam chuckled at her, pushing the door with his free hand and closing it behind him. “No, baby. We’ll still be living in floor number five.” _Maybe,_ he mentally added. He was still hoping something better would come by, or he earned enough money to _afford_ something better. For now, apartment 5J would have to do.

Speaking of 5J-

“You ready?” he asked her, once they’d reached the door, and Leigh eyed it with curiosity and wonder, chewing on her bottom lip. She turned to Sam and nodded furiously, blonde curls bouncing.

“Can I open the door, D-Daddy?”

Sam smiled. “Sure thing, pumpkin.” He set her down on the ground and moved aside, waving grandly at the door, signaling her to proceed.

A wide grin broke out across her face, one of her bottom teeth missing, and she bounced excitedly, reaching up to turn the bronze knob, dented in one side, with both hands. The door swung inwards when she pushed it and Sam heard a slow, amazed inhale as Leigh’s hazel eyes widened. That’s what really got to Sam, the fact that she could look at their practically ramshackle, crappy little new place and look like she was stepping into Wonderland.

“We’re gonna live here, Daddy?” she asked, voice low and awed as if Sam had just told her she was Queen of the World and she could have ice cream for dinner. Manlier men than him would get choked up.

“Yeah,” Sam croaked. “You like it?”

“I love it!” she giggled happily and rushed inside and stood in the very center of the living room, then spread her arms and started spinning in a circle, face upturned towards the dark, water-stained ceiling. Sam wiped at his wet eyes and watched her, smile never faltering.

“It’s so small and c-cozy and cute!” Leigh exclaimed, having done her assessment. “Like a p-puppy!”

Laughing at the comparison, Sam pointed towards the small hallway to the right that led to the bedrooms. "Why don’t you go see your new bedroom?” he grinned. “It’s the last door on the right,” he told her, and she let out a happy squeal, clapping her hands and bounding off through the hallway, rushing to the left. “Your other right, Leigh!” he called, amused, and watched as she flew by the hallway again, headed in the opposite direction.

Shaking his head fondly, Sam plopped himself on the couch he and Dean had set up just that morning, yawning and stretching out. He lay on his side, pulling his knees up. Leigh would come rushing back soon enough and most likely pounce on him with excitement, chattering about all the things she wanted to do with her new room, and Sam had learned a long time ago to protect his crotch when that happened.

God, he was exhausted. He had woken up at, what had it been? Five? Something like that. 5 am, loading boxes and furniture into his pickup and Dean’s Impala, driving from Dean’s flat- not nearly as pathetic as theirs- on the outskirts of town, all the way here to the very center of the city. Then he’d had to carry said boxes and furniture up, some of them too big to go in the elevator, so they’d had to take the stairs. Sam lost count how many trips it took them from the parking lot to the fifth floor. Not to mention the emotional exhaustion of bringing Leigh by. Stressing over whether or not your daughter is going to like her new home is more taxing than he’d expected.

He was _tired_. And really, he only closed his eyes for a minute, two at most. Maybe he dozed for thirty seconds or something, but he quickly jerked himself to attention.

Sam yawned, sat up on the couch and stretched his arms over his head, eyes flitting over to the hallway. He craned his neck, trying to get Leigh’s bedroom door into view but couldn’t. He frowned. She’d been in there a while. And his stomach was significantly unharmed from a lack of pouncing.

“Leigh?” he called out. “You all right?”

No answer.

Fear gripped Sam’s stomach so fast, he almost threw up right there. His limbs ran cold and numb, but he managed to surge to his feet, rushing to the hallway in three quick strides of his long legs. “Leigh?” he called again.

Still nothing.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God._ Sam’s heart was pounding a mile a minute in his chest, so fast it hurt, as he rounded the corner and threw open the bedroom door, expecting to see his little girl lying on the floor in the center of the room, limbs jerking, eyes open and unstaring, mouth frothing. _Not again, please._

But Leigh wasn’t on the floor in the middle of a seizure. Leigh wasn’t in the room at all.

“Leigh!” Sam shouted, rushing across the hallway to his own bedroom. No little girl there either. She wasn’t hiding in the empty closet either.

_Keep it together, Winchester,_ he tried to tell himself, even as he felt his brain start spinning. He checked the two bathrooms, practically jumped into the kitchenette divided from the living room by a thin wall. No Leigh.

“ _Leigh!”_ Sam shouted. He shot out of the kitchenette and whipped his head around, expecting and hoping against all hopes that she would pop out from behind the couch or materialize out of thin air or walk in through a wall or _something._

That’s when he caught sight of the open door. Hadn’t he closed it?

_“Shit.”_

Sam rushed out, long legs carrying him at twenty five miles per hour. He checked the hallway, but it was empty. “Leigh!” he called out.

Maybe she was in one of the rooms? Oh God, what if some creep had taken her? Should he start breaking down doors?

“ _LEIGH?!”_ he yelled, but there was no answer.

Sam’s hands went to his hair, tugging harshly as tears pricked at his eyes. He couldn’t lose her, no. Not Leigh. Not her.

His eyes caught sight of the staircase door, which was ajar. Without thinking, he practically threw himself at it, bounding down the steps four at a time. She wasn’t on the staircase and Sam wasn’t sure what that meant. Maybe he’d been asleep longer than he thought, because being five with short little legs carrying you down five flights of stairs is no easy or short-lived task. But maybe it meant that Leigh hadn’t taken the stairs at all, and she was in fact back upstairs in the apartment of some complete stranger.

The tears were welling up, uncontrolled.

He jumped the last seven steps and barreled at the door, coming out to the apartment’s lobby which was, despairingly, Leigh-free.

“Leigh!” he called out again.

There was an elderly woman waiting by the elevator who eyed him strangely, but he didn’t care. “Have you seen a little girl around her? Blonde curls?” he asked her desperately, not bothering to hide the tears that were just on the brink of falling over.

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Oh, sweet little thing in a butterfly shirt?”

Sam’s heart almost stopped with relief. _Yes, yes, her._ “Yes! Yes, where is she?”

“I thought it was strange that such a little girl was out by herself, so I asked her if she was lost.” Was it just Sam or was this woman’s speech infuriatingly slow? “She told me that no, her mom was across the street waiting for her.”

Sam stared at her in absolute shock, terror momentarily taking a backseat to confusion. _Her mom?_

“She went to that bakery there,” she said, pointing at the glass doors of the building. Sam whirled and could see a little shop directly across the street, with big windows and a sign that read _Just Desserts_. It was too far away to make out any shapes in the windows though.

“Thank you,” Sam called back breathlessly, already rushing out the door. People were making their way across the sidewalk and maybe he bumped into a few, but he didn’t notice, didn’t apologize, just rushed forward.

Cars honked at him and almost ran him over as he dashed across the street but it _didn’t matter_ because once he was on the other side, he was hopping up the steps of the little bakery and tossing the door open and calling out his daughter’s name.

And there she was, standing by the display of cookies in a large glass case, smiling brightly. There was a man next to her, but Sam didn’t even register him as the tears spilled over and his face split so wide it hurt.

“Daddy!” Leigh called out happily, rushing over to him. Sam crouched down in time, arms open, and caught her, squeezing her close to his chest and straightening up, taking her up. She wrapped her little legs around his waist and he buried his face in her curls, trying to hold back the sobs.

“Leigh, sweetheart, you’re okay,” he gasped into her neck, one arm around her waist, the other one holding the back of her head, fingers in her curls. “You scared me so much.”

Leigh pulled away to look at him, and when she saw the tears on his face, her happy expression melted away to one of complete heartbreak, her own eyes welling up.

“I’m s-sorry, Daddy,” she said softly, little hands coming up to his cheeks to wipe away the wetness there. “I didn’t m-mean to. I just wanted to s-surprise you.” Her voice cracked slightly and it hit Sam straight in the heart.

“With what, sweetie?” he asked her, completely oblivious to the fact that he was obstructing the entrance.

“M-Mommy,” Leigh replied quietly, eyes downcast. “I smelled her h-here and I wanted to c-come get her and br-bring her back to you, but she’s not here.”

And suddenly it all made sense. What the old woman had told him, and Leigh looking so surprised on the street when they arrived. It hadn’t been horror at the ugly building. It had been the smell hitting her.

“No,” Sam answered sadly, finally moving away from the door and further inside the shop, taking a seat with her in his lap. “No, she’s not. I know. But it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay. It doesn’t matter.”

Leigh seemed to be about to say something else, but then someone came up beside them and she turned to look at him, face splitting into a bright smile again.

“Hello,” the man said cheerfully and Sam turned to look at him. He was a short-ish man (although Sam wasn’t a really fair judge of height), with sandy hair slicked back and a bright, mischievous-looking grin. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here and say that you’re Leigh’s dad?”

This had been the guy with Leigh when Sam had come in. Sam was instantly suspicious.

“Yeah,” Sam frowned, looking up at him. He didn’t look threatening, but the best pedophiles never did, did they? “You are-?” That’s when Sam noticed the nametag on the apron that he also just noticed. ‘Gabriel’. An employee. “Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “That’s right. I’m the owner of this fabulous establishment. Leigh came rushing in here, asking for her mom. She looked lost and I thought I’d help her find her mom.”

_I bet you did,_ Sam growled in his head.

“Gabriel’s really n-nice, Daddy!” Leigh beamed and Sam turned to her. “He says he d-didn’t know Mommy, but that he th-thought if I told him what she looked like, he c-could help me. I told him sh-she looked just like m-me, but with blue eyes in-instead of hazel.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Leigh,” he said softly, because he really needed to say this, no matter how much he didn’t want to. “You know that Mommy’s-”

“Not here anymore, I know,” Leigh murmured sadly, looking away again. “She’s with J-Jesus now…but I _smelled_ her, D-Daddy.”

Sam ran a hand over his face and sent the cookie display an angry glare, although it really wasn’t the pastries’ fault. “I know, but Leigh-”

“Hey, man,” Gabriel cut in and Sam turned to him, “why don’t I get Leigh here a cookie of her choice, totally on the house?”

Sam frowned confusedly up at him, but Leigh squealed happily and bounced on his lap. “For real, Mr. Gabriel?!”

“Sure thing, doll,” he replied, and Sam wasn’t sure how he felt about some stranger calling his daughter ‘doll’. “If your Daddy’s okay with it, that is.” He turned a questioning look on Sam and Sam stared back at him for a moment, unsure what to make of this.

“Please, Daddy, please? Can I have a c-cookie?” Leigh pleaded, and Sam really couldn’t say no right now. Not when he was so relieved she was okay.

Sam sighed. “All right. _One_ cookie.”

“YAY!” Leigh exclaimed and Gabriel smiled brightly.

“Give me a sec, then,” Gabriel said and turned away to go behind the counter. “Hey, Cas!” he called out and another man came out from the kitchen door. He was a little taller than Gabriel, with a shock of black hair and the most vivid blue eyes Sam had ever seen. “Come over here.”

Cas followed Gabriel around the counter and back to the table Sam and Leigh were at. “This here’s my little brother, Castiel,” he said cheerily to Leigh, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “He’s a total geek.” Leigh giggled at the glare Castiel shot his brother. “But he’s nice enough, so he’s going to help you pick out your cookie while I talk to your Daddy, all right?”

“Okay!” Leigh said and hopped off Sam’s lap, taking a smiling Castiel’s hand and leading him over to the display of cookies. Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised. Leigh was usually so closed-off around strangers and new people, but here she was, completely accepting of these two random men. He wondered whether this was a good sign, or a warning bell.

“You,” Gabriel said, turning now to Sam, who looked up at him like a deer in the headlights. “Stay right there, I’ll be right back.”

Sam took that moment to look around the shop, always keeping one eye on Leigh in a way that only parents knew to do. He noticed that it was rather empty, which was understandable at this time of day. There was only one guy, nursing a coffee, at the far corner of the shop, not paying them any attention as he read his newspaper.

Gabriel went around the counter and bent down behind the cash register. When he popped back up, he had a bottle of Jack in one hand, and a glass in another. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not allowed to drink on the job anymore,” he lamented as he came back to the table, shooting a pointed look at Castiel’s back. “But you look like you need it.”

Gabriel set the glass in front of Sam and as the brown liquid sloshed into it, Sam realized just how welcome it would be. Just the right thing to cut the edge off the adrenaline high he was running on right now.

“Thanks,” he said softly, wrapping his fingers around the glass and taking a sip, feeling it burn down his throat and settle in his stomach pleasantly, the rush he had felt already dulling slightly. “Sam,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out for Gabriel to shake.

“Here,” Gabriel said, handing him a clean towel he pulled out of his apron. Sam stared at it for a while, then remembered he’d been crying just a minute before. Blushing slightly, he took the towel with a small smile and wiped his face.

“Now, I’m not a prying guy,” Gabriel told him, plopping down on the seat across from Sam, “and you don’t have to tell me anything, but Leigh just came in here screaming ‘Mommy! Mommy!’ and looking around like a lost puppy. Now I’m hearing that Mommy’s well…. _gone-_ my condolences, by the way- and Leigh _smelled_ her in my bakery?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow and Sam had to snort at how ridiculous the story sounded. “Now I’m kinda freaked out, considering I’ve never even seen you _or_ Leigh in my store before.”

Sam took another sip and pushed his hair out of his face. “Yeah, I get it. Leigh’s a total sweetheart, but she has that effect on people. They just don’t understand her right, you know?” He bit his lip and looked at the Formica tabletop, scratching his fingernail across the smooth surface. “Leigh’s got autism,” he said quietly, not looking up at Gabriel. He wasn’t ashamed of his daughter’s condition, not at all. But some people didn’t take it so well.

“I’ve heard about that,” Gabriel said casually, and Sam looked up to see that Gabriel was looking at him with mild curiosity and not pity or horror. “I don’t really get it though.”

Sam laughed wryly. “No one really _gets_ it,” he admitted. “It’s a very controversial condition, and it confuses the shit out of doctors, you know?” He shrugged. “Basically, it means that Leigh develops and interacts with people differently. She didn’t really speak until she was three, and it was really hard to understand her. She’s gotten better, but she’s still got a stutter. She’s also got some…tics. Some OCD habits and she can’t communicate with kids her own age worth a damn.”

Gabriel nodded slowly, still not fully understanding, but grasping it better. “I don’t get what that has to do with her smelling her late mother in my shop, though.”

“Kids with autism are very sensitive. And I don’t mean emotionally, I mean like with their actual five senses. Usually, they fixate on one sense- a smell or a texture, but autism is different for each kid,” Sam explained, taking another sip and watching Leigh chatter excitedly at an amused-looking Castiel. She was pointing at various cookies, probably asking questions about them, and Castiel seemed to be patiently answering each one. Sam hadn’t said a word to the guy, but he decided he liked him. “Leigh fixates on certain senses that she associates to certain important people in her life. Like sense memory, ya know? Someone wears a distinctive perfume and you smell something similar to it somewhere else, you immediately think of that person, even if they’re nowhere nearby?” He waited for Gabriel to nod before continuing. “Leigh has a hard time distinguishing the sense from the person and thinks that wherever that smell or sound or whatever is, that person is there too. My wife, Jess, used to bake Leigh chocolate chip cookies, so Leigh associates the scent of baking cookies to her mom.” He shrugged. “She smelled it and thought her mom was here.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Sounds…pretty cool, actually.” He grinned and Sam found himself grinning back. He felt a little guilty about suspecting the guy when he first came in. But it was only instinctual, he told himself. All parents were paranoid.

“Mr. Gabriel, Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh’s voice called as she bounded over again. “I’ve ch-chosen my cookie!” she proclaimed, tugging at the waistband of Gabriel’s jeans.

“That’s great!” he beamed, but then his smile slipped into a frown when Leigh’s face clouded over, eyes falling to Gabriel’s hip. Two tiny fingers were tucked under the hem of his waistband, and her thumb was rubbing over Gabriel’s belt in little circles.

“Uncle Dean,” she muttered softly, her brow furrowing and her eyes welling up with tears. Sam jumped up instinctively, reaching over to grip her shoulder and make her look at him. Gabriel sat there, frozen, unsure what he’d done wrong.

“Leigh,” Sam said, voice as calm and firm as possible, like he didn’t want to spook the little girl any further. “That’s not Uncle Dean.”

“B-But Daddy,” she muttered, lip quivering, right on the verge of tears, her hand still gripping Gabriel’s belt.

“But nothing,” he persisted. “Uncle Dean is back at his house, okay? That’s Mr. Gabriel, remember?”

Leigh blinked a few times, sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her free hand before slowly releasing Gabriel’s belt. “You feel like Uncle D-Dean,” she told Gabriel softly, but then her face split into a bright smile, and Sam released a breath he’d been holding back. He remembered the last time Leigh had gotten confused like that. They could’ve had a real crisis on their hands just then. “Sorry, M-Mr. Gabriel.”

Still looking utterly perplexed, Gabriel smiled and said, “No worries, kiddo. Get Cas to wrap up the cookie for you.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “If you pout at him, he’ll put in _two_ cookies. _Just don’t tell your dad.”_ His mischievous eyes flashed to Sam, who rolled his eyes, smiling.

Leigh giggled and turned to rush back to Castiel, and Sam choked on his laughter when he saw her give him her best pout.

Gabriel laughed too, turning away from the sight and back to Sam. “So…that just now…?” he asked slowly.

“Your belt’s leather,” Sam explained. “My brother Dean wears a leather jacket all the time. Last time she got confused like that, she had a full-on panic attack.”

“Ah.” Gabriel nodded, understanding. “Is your brother hot? ‘Cause if not, I’m gonna be rather insulted at being mistaken for him.”

Sam choked on his sip of Jack, spluttering, and Gabriel laughed. “Just a joke, man! Take it easy.”

As Sam wiped his face with the towel, Gabriel asked him, “So if Mommy is cookies baking and dear ol’ Uncle is leather, what’s Daddy?”

Sam shrugged, placing the towel back down on the table. “Dunno.” It had been something that Sam had always wondered about, but whenever he asked Leigh, she hadn’t answered him. “She won’t tell me.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that’s extremely curious,” he commented, lips curling mischievously.

Leigh came bouncing back to them then, toting a white wax paper bag that was so bulky that Sam wondered if Leigh’s pout was more powerful than previously perceived or if Castiel was such a softy that he’d just put _three_ cookies in there.

“Got your cookies, kiddo?” Gabriel smiled at her and chuckled as Leigh nodded furiously, curls flying everywhere. “Good. Now, I’m not gonna make your daddy pay for them, but I need you to do something for me, all right?”

Sam frowned, watching Gabriel warily as he leaned closer to his daughter. “No more running away from your dad, all right? No going _anywhere_ unless your dad says it’s okay, got it?”

Leigh blushed, biting her bottom lip, nodding slowly.

“Not everyone out there is as nice as Cas and I,” he continued, touching her shoulder. “Not everyone is going to give you free cookies like us, because no one is as awesome as us. So don’t go scaring your dad like that ever again, all right?”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Gabriel,” Leigh murmured, still not looking up at him.

“Cross your heart?” Gabriel prompted.

Leigh made an ‘X’ shape over her chest with her finger. “Cross my h-heart!” she squeaked, finally looking up at him. When he smiled back at her, she asked, “But I can still c-come see you and Mr. C-Cas again, right?”

“Only if your dad lets you,” Gabriel said sternly, and Sam felt a little odd, letting this guy that he’d just met lecture his daughter, but Leigh seemed to like and trust him (Sam would analyze that development later on), and sometimes children needed to hear things from adults other than their parents that they trusted to really get the point across to them.

“Okay, Mr. Gabriel!”

With a final nod, Gabriel ruffled her hair and got up, taking Sam’s empty glass. Sam got out of his chair, too and took Leigh’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely to Gabriel, who shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at him.

“Any time. Why don’t you two come by tomorrow morning for breakfast?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You serve breakfast here?”

“And lunch and dinner,” Castiel responded, and Sam was a little taken aback at the guy’s ridiculously deep tone.

“We make the best waffles this side of the continent,” Gabriel added smugly, and Leigh gasped.

“Waffles!” she cried happily. “Chocolate chip?!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes with a smile. “Duh!”

“Daddy, can we?” Leigh chirped, tugging at Sam’s hand. He had to lean slightly to the side, since he was so tall and she had to stretch to reach his fingers.

Sam smiled down at her. “Sure thing, baby.”

“Yay!” she squealed and released Sam’s hand to lunge forward and hug both Gabriel and Castiel’s legs, so quickly that none of them had any time to react.

***

**Tuesday**

It was a testament to how often Sam’s testicles have been crushed by tiny flailing limbs that his subconscious positions his body in the most protective position overnight. So when Leigh comes bounding into his bedroom the next morning, hopping on the bed and pouncing, Sam’s crotch is safe. He may not be planning on having any more children in the future, but at least he still has the option available.

“Come on, Daddy!” she squealed happily, bouncing on his stomach. “T-Time for panc-cakes with Mr. Cas and M-Mr. Gabriel!”

Sam groaned, trying to turn over and bury his face in his pillow, but Leigh wouldn’t have any of that. “Wake up, Daddy!” she practically growled, and since when do sweet little five year olds growl?

“Okay, okay,” Sam grumbled, bucking upwards so she lost her balance on top of him and toppled to the bed, giggling.

Ten minutes later, Leigh was waiting by the door, dressed, hair brushed, and rearing to go, tapping her little foot impatiently. Sam came out of his bathroom, running his fingers through his hair to put it in place after brushing it out.

Leigh insisted on a piggy-back ride down the stairs and Sam warned her not to get used to it as he hooked his arms under her knees.

Once they were across the street and in front of the bakery, Sam let her down and opened the door for her, both of them looking a little taken aback at how different the little shop looked. Late evening on a Monday was apparently completely different from nine in the morning on a Tuesday.

For one thing, it was full to bursting with customers. Sam could feel Leigh fidget beside him and shuffle closer to him, uncomfortable with the crowd. He crouched down and picked her up, letting her hide her face in his shoulder. He carried her up to the end of the line and stroked her back, bouncing her slightly like he used to do when she was a baby to put her to sleep. It still made him feel uneasy, taking her out in public, especially when there were so many people around. She closed herself off and didn’t act like her sweet, hyperactive self, but it’s not like Sam could keep her locked up forever just to avoid making her feel uncomfortable. She had to get used to being around people, in crowds.

There were about eight people before them in line and six others waiting at the end of the counter for their orders. All of the tables had been taken, except one that had a ‘Reserved’ sign taped to the tabletop. It was the one Sam had sat at yesterday and he frowned at it, wondering who the hell would reserve a table at a _bakery_.

Once they reached the front of the line, Leigh finally peeked her head up and smiled at Castiel at the register. It still confused Sam, how open she was immediately with him and Gabriel.

“Hello,” Castiel greeted, a bright smile on his face. “Gabriel had been hoping you’d come today.”

“We promised, didn’t we?” Sam grinned back. “He said something about chocolate chip waffles for the little lady.”

“Waffles!” Leigh squealed and the corner of Castiel’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile at her.

“Of course,” he said. “However, maybe you should consider something a little healthier,” he suggested, turning a mischievous little look at Sam. “We have a wonderful egg salad for breakfast, lots of vegetables.”

Leigh made a face and stuck out her tongue in disgust. “No! Waffles!”

Sam tried to hold back a laugh. “I don’t know, Leigh. Growing girls need their protein. Maybe I _should_ get you an egg salad.”

First was the growling this morning, now was a death glare to bring stronger men to their knees. Sam made a mental note not to ever get between his daughter and her waffles.

“All right, all right,” Sam said, turning back to an amused Castiel. “ _I’ll_ have the egg salad, and some chocolate chip waffles for her.”

“To drink?” Castiel asked, jotting down their order.

“Chocolate m-milk!” Leigh exclaimed.

“ _More_ chocolate?” Sam asked. “Fine. Some chocolate milk for the soon-to-be-diabetic and a coffee for me. Three sugars, two creams.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the strange coffee order, but Sam was used to it. He _hated_ bitter coffee. Castiel didn’t comment, however, and put the order into the register’s calculator. “That will be $12.95. Oh! Wait.” He shook his head and clicked a few more buttons. “With the discount, it comes down to $10.36.”

Sam furrowed his brows, handing Castiel a ten and a one. “Discount?”

“Regular customers get twenty percent off,” Castiel explained as he counted off Sam’s change.

“ _Regular customer?_ ” Sam parroted, taking the change. They’d only been here once before, and they hadn’t even _bought_ anything. “But I-”

“Gabriel gave specific instructions. He’s the owner, after all.” Castiel shrugged, as if he truly didn’t question his brother’s whims. But there was a look that made Sam think Castiel knew more than he let on. “Take your seat and we’ll call you when your order is ready.”

Sam moved away so the next customer could take their order and looked around for a seat. All the tables were still taken and Sam’s arms were getting tired, so he set Leigh down on the ground and stroked her hair when she plastered herself to her leg. He decided to just wait until a table opened up.

Once Castiel was done with the customer, he looked up and caught sight of Sam and Leigh standing next to the counter and frowned. “Sam,” he called and Sam turned to look at him. “You can sit.”

“All the tables are full,” Sam said, feeling like he was missing something.

“Not yours,” Castiel clarified, pointing at the table with the ‘Reserved’ sign.

Sam frowned at the table in question. First an uncalled for discount, and now a random reservation? Sam wondered if Gabriel did this often for complete strangers. It was the only explanation, because why else would he be giving them such special treatment?

They took their seats, and Sam took out a coloring book from his bag and a handful of crayons, laying them out in front of her. He watched as she took the crayons and set them up in the same strange pattern that Sam could never figure out. She crinkled her nose at the red crayon because it wasn’t where it was supposed to be and it apparently ruined her whole system, so she spent the next minute rearranging them until they were in an arrangement that satisfied her.

She colored as Sam checked the news on his phone, texted Dean a few times, and watched the crowd wax and wane.

Ten minutes of waiting later, one of the two employees handing out orders- Harry, his nametag said- called out his name and Sam stood up and took their food, bringing it back to their table. He slipped the coloring book out from under Leigh’s hands and replaced it into his bag before cutting up her waffles into tiny pieces for her.

They ate in silence, Sam wiping away syrup from her cheeks with a wet napkin every now and then.

The shop started emptying out twenty minutes later, and the other employee- Ed- left his station behind the counter helping Harry and moved around the tables, cleaning the floors and wiping down tabletops. There’s maybe half a dozen people left and Sam’s been finished with his egg salad- absolutely _delicious_ \- for five minutes while Leigh valiantly struggles to fit what’s left of the waffles into her too-tiny stomach when Gabriel comes out of the kitchen.

He looks much more tired than last night, which is understandable, considering how much cooking he had to have been doing just a few minutes ago, but there’s a smile on his face that brightens when he spots the pair at the reserved table. Clapping Castiel’s back on his way around the counter, Gabriel sauntered over to them and pulled out an empty chair from one of the nearby tables.

“Mind if I join you?” he grinned, not waiting for an answer before plopping down in the seat.

Sam smiled, taking a sip of his coffee- which was hands-down the greatest coffee he had ever tasted. “It’s your place, man. You do what you want.” He set the coffee down.

“Hi, Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh squealed happily, beaming a syrupy smile at him.

Gabriel chuckled. “I see you enjoyed the waffles,” he comments, and his eyes have this weird sort of sparkle that makes him seem so approachable. Sam is reminded again that this guy is a complete stranger to both him and his daughter, and he really should be more on guard.

“So,” Sam interjects, clearing his throat, “not that I’m complaining, but what’s with all the special treatment? I mean- the regular customer discount? The reserved table? You don’t really know us at all, man.”

Gabriel leveled an appraising look at Sam, making Sam feel like an amoeba under a microscope, but Gabriel’s lips were still quirked in a smirk. “Did you enjoy the food, Sam?”

“Uh,” Sam starts intelligently, because that’s not what he had been expecting. Sure, the food _had_ been great. He had stolen a bit of Leigh’s waffles and they were absolutely _heavenly._ Fluffy and sweet without being cloying. The egg salad had been moist and flavorful and he even found himself loving the coffee, which was a rare thing. “Yeah, it’s great.”

“Best waffles e-ever!” Leigh proclaims.

“But that doesn’t answer my-”

“Do you think you’d like to come back and eat here again?”

Sam could definitely see himself coming back to eat her regularly. Even if the owner was a total creep, the food was amazing, the prices were reasonable, and the location was convenient. “Absolutely. Now if you’d stop avoiding my question-”

“I’m not,” Gabriel said, looking kind of smug.  “I’m answering it. I know a potential customer when I see one, Sammy. You looked like good business to me, so I had to hop on that opportunity, right?” He winked.

“You c-can’t call him S-Sammy,” Leigh told him simply. “Daddy doesn’t l-like it.”

Gabriel frowned, turning to Leigh. “’Scuse me?”

“Only Uncle D-Dean calls him Sammy,” Leigh elaborated and Sam smiled, kind of warmed by the fact that his five year old daughter was sticking up for him. “Daddy doesn’t like it wh-when other people d-do it.”

“Oh, well…” Gabriel cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offence.”

Sam shrugged, still smiling softly. “It’s cool. Thank you, sweetie,” he added to Leigh, who beamed up at him. Sam smiled back and Leigh poked his dimple before he turned back to Gabriel. “So you’re being nice to us because you wanted some new customers? So if I come back to eat here again, I’ll be treated like any other customer?” He felt kind of dirty, being treated so wonderfully, just so he would come back and be treated like anyone else. It’s not that he _wanted_ the special treatment, but being teased with it made him feel kind of cheap.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “If you come back, then you’d be considered a regular customer, so you’ll actually be eligible for the discount, _duh._ And if you want us to keep this table clear for you on busy days, it’s not a big deal to tape a piece of paper to the tabletop.” He shrugged again.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Have you done this for any other customers?”

Gabriel leaned back in the chair, smirk never faltering, eyes glinting mischievously. “You done with that?” he asks, nodding towards Sam’s empty plate. “Want anything else?”

This time, it was obvious that Gabriel was deliberately changing the subject, but Sam didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he tossed him a suspicious look that Gabriel took with an easy roll of his shoulders, and looked over to the display of pastries under the counter.

“I could go for a blueberry muffin,” Sam said honestly, eyeing one of them hungrily. “And a coffee refill.”

Without taking his eyes off Sam, Gabriel called out, “You got that, Cas?”

Castiel was already moving to serve the coffee and picking out the muffin while the cup filled up.

“If you pay with a credit card, Cas can start a tab for you and you’d never have to bother with cash or anything here,” Gabriel said simply, as if it were already a given that Sam would be coming back regularly. And, really, hadn’t Sam told him exactly that just a moment ago?

When Castiel came around the counter with the coffee and muffin, Sam handed him his credit card.

“So, Sam,” Gabriel began, leaning his arms on the table now, giving his attention fully to Sam. Leigh had finished her waffles and was pulling out her coloring book from Sam’s bag and shifting her plate aside to make room. “Tell me about yourself. You unemployed or something? It’s Tuesday morning and you’re not sitting in a cubicle somewhere.”

“Please forgive my brother’s lack of tact,” Castiel’s voice came from where he was wiping down the counter. “Sometimes he speaks without thinking.”

Gabriel’s hand twitched as if to flip Castiel the bird, but his eyes flickered to Leigh sitting next to him and he scowled, opting instead to simply stick his tongue out at his younger brother.

It was so ridiculously similar to Sam’s interactions with Dean that Sam had to laugh. “No worries, Cas,” Sam called back, the nickname slipping from his lips easily. “I’m not unemployed,” he replied, turning back to Gabriel. “I’m a paralegal working for an independent lawyer, but I took the week off so we could get settled in our new home.”

“Paralegal?” Gabriel frowned. Sam was used to people not knowing what that was.

“Glorified secretary,” Sam explained, grinning, because he was used to giving off that impression as well. Working for the pompous Crowley, that’s actually what it felt like most of the time. “Or a half-lawyer, if I’m feeling generous about myself. I’m hoping to go back to school one day, get my own license, and start my own practice.” He offered Leigh a piece of his muffin, but she looked pained and turned away, as if another bite of food would make her explode. Sam grinned and popped it into his own mouth, speaking around it. “But that won’t be for another couple of years, I suppose.”

They chatted idly for a bit, Gabriel commending Leigh for her fabulous coloring skills, and making various comments with double-meanings that Leigh wouldn’t get, but that Sam caught all too well and had him snorting with laughter into his coffee. He found that Gabriel was extremely pleasant company, and Leigh seemed to be really comfortable around him, which should have been worrying but was actually more of a relief than anything. He couldn’t remember a day where he didn’t worry that his daughter would never get along with anyone that wasn’t him or Dean, but she seemed really happy around Gabriel and Castiel.

Five minutes to noon, Gabriel got up. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s almost time for the lunch rush, so I should get back to work.”

Sam had completely lost track of the time. “It’s twelve already? Crap,” he hissed. Leigh glared at him and Sam winced apologetically, pulling a quarter out of his wallet and placing it in her upturned palm. “For the swear jar,” he explained at Gabriel’s questioning glance. “C’mon, Leigh. We’re gonna be late for therapy.” He began gathering up her things.

“Therapy?” Gabriel blurted out, then seemed to backtrack, holding up his hands. “Wait, nevermind. Not my business.”

Sam grinned up at him. “Nah, it’s cool.”

“Every Tuesday, I go talk t-to Dr. Harvelle,” Leigh explained, tossing her crayons in Sam’s bag. “She helps me a l-lot. And Daddy goes to t-talk to Dr. R-Roberts across the hall. She’s p-pretty.”

Sam shrugged, shouldering his bag and taking Leigh’s hand. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said to Gabriel. “We’ll definitely be coming back.”

Gabriel smirked. “Good to hear.”

“Gabriel!” Castiel called from the register. “You should invite Sam over for Friday.”

The two shared a look that, again, reminded Sam of the communication between him and his own brother. As if they were talking telepathically about something only they knew.

“Good idea, Cas,” Gabriel said finally before turning back to Sam. “How ‘bout it? Every Friday night, Cas and I close up early, pull out some beers and shoot the sh- erm…shoot the breeze. We just goof around in the shop. You should come by.”

It sounded strangely similar to the weekends Sam would sometimes leave Leigh with Uncle Bobby and he and Dean would take a drive together, just hanging out and spending time together because they both needed to get away from it all. It sounded like something personal and it made Sam kind of uncomfortable if he was completely honest.

“I dunno,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t wanna like…intrude or anything.”

“You’d only be intruding if you came by uninvited, idiot,” Gabriel teased, rolling his eyes. “I clearly just told you you were welcome, so there will be no intruding involved.”

“Come by, Sam,” Castiel urged, looking extremely earnest and _damn,_ those blue eyes were hard to say no to.

Sam sighed, but smiled. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to. I’ll just have Dean babysit.”

“Yay!” Leigh exclaimed, bouncing joyfully.

With one last wave at their new friends, Sam and Leigh left the shop just as a new wave of customers filed in.

***

**Friday**

Sam and Leigh had been to the bakery every day since then, having breakfast or grabbing a pastry after lunch or just because Leigh wanted to say hi to her new friends. On Thursday, she had come in just to give Gabriel a page of her coloring book that she had finished, because she remembered how much Gabriel had liked her coloring. The smile on Gabriel’s face had been nothing but genuine, not one of those patiently fake smiles people sometimes used just to humor kids. He had seemed sincerely happy to receive the drawing, and had taken it away somewhere. Sam didn’t know what he had done with it. Probably thrown it away or something, but that didn’t matter. He had made Leigh smile, and that’s what was important.

Friday rolled around and Sam made his way home from Dean’s place, after a hug and a kiss from Leigh and a slap to the butt from Dean. He parked in his space labeled ‘5J’ and made his way across the street, meeting no traffic whatsoever.

The blinds were down on all the bakery’s windows and the sign on the door read ‘Get lost! We’re closed!’, but Sam knocked on it and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. After a moment of waiting, he heard keys jangling and the door swung inwards to reveal a smiling Castiel.

“Sam,” he greeted, and Sam smiled back at him as he stepped inside. “We’re glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, well Dean was practically kicking my ass to get myself here. Threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t come,” he joked dryly. “Been a while since I just had some time for myself and friends, ya’know?” He blushed lightly.

“How cute,” Gabriel commented from where he was crouched behind the counter, apparently looking for something. “Big brother looking out for you.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but there was also an underlying tone of respect to it. “Don’t worry, Sam. Cas and I’ll take good care of ya.” He straightened up and winked at Sam, who rolled his eyes as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of the seats.

“You guys do this every Friday?” Sam asked as Gabriel handed him a bottle of beer.

“Not _every_ Friday,” Gabriel shrugged, sitting down across from Sam. Castiel took a seat between them.

“Some Fridays Gabriel goes to a club,” Castiel adds, a beer in his hands. “But we do it whenever we can take a night off for ourselves.”

“So Sam,” Gabriel started meaningfully, and Sam noticed Castiel’s shoulders go a little tense. “Cas wanted to ask you-”

“ _Gabriel,_ ” Castiel hissed, the color rising to his cheeks slightly and Sam frowned.

“C’mon, man,” Gabriel urged, turning to his brother. “It’s not a big deal. You’re curious, just ask him.”

“Ask me what?” Sam prompted, feeling a little irked at being left out of the loop like this.

Castiel sighed. “It’s about Leigh, actually,” he responded finally, shooting his smug-looking brother a dirty glare. “You see, I used to be a doctor, and I am slightly familiar with conditions such as autism, but Leigh doesn’t seem to fit the textbook description of it and I find it…curious. I apologize if I sound forward, but-”

Sam laughed, short and amused. “Don’t worry, man. You can ask, it’s not something Leigh and I are ashamed of. I’ve seen parents who are so embarrassed of their kids that they’d rather pretend their kids are completely normal and just ignore their special needs.” Sam sneered, taking another pull of his beer. “If I’m totally honest, I kind of started geeking out when we found out. Started asking all these questions and doing research and stuff. Jess called me a giant nerd.”

The brothers smiled softly at him, as if they found his rambling endearing, and Sam cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat. “So…uh…you were gonna ask something?”

“Yes. You see, kids with autism are characterized as antisocial, sometimes even downright sociopathic. Leigh…well, she isn’t antisocial at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Sam grinned, twirling the bottle on the table between his hands. “That’s just with you two, actually,” he explained, smile widening at the look of surprise on both their faces. “Leigh’s a sweetheart, really. With me and Dean, ‘cause we’re her family and we’ve worked with her. But when she meets other people, it’s like…she’s nothing like how you see her. She doesn’t meet their eyes, doesn’t really seem to hear what they say, doesn’t really respond. Before therapy, she didn’t really talk. She was three when she started, and she didn’t really interact- just repeated what you told her. If you asked her a question, she wouldn’t answer it, just say it back to you, like a parrot.” Sam rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks in his neck. “Dr. Harvelle’s been amazing, really helped her out a lot, as you can tell. But usually when she meets new people, she reverts back to that.”

“Well, then…why wasn’t she like that with us?” Gabriel frowned.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked Ellen- her therapist. I told her all about Monday, and how she reacted to both of you, and she seemed pretty surprised too. Ellen’s theory is that Leigh was scared, and I wasn’t around. She came in here, freaked out, and didn’t have me to latch onto like she usually did. So she had to settle for you-” he nodded to Gabriel- “and since you treated her so well when she was so vulnerable, she immediately trusted you. And since you trust Cas, Leigh figures he’s trustworthy too.” Sam shrugged. “Maybe she just has good instincts.”

The brothers exchanged a look, both looking a little winded from the news. A week wasn’t enough to get a full grasp on either men, but Leigh trusted them and already seemed to love them. Sam knew that if they turned out to be disappointments, two curious strangers that didn’t care about her or Sam at all, that Leigh would be completely heartbroken.

“Wow,” Gabriel said finally, taking another sip of beer. “So…even for an autistic kid, yours is weird.”

Sam snorted and Gabriel laughed, while Castiel glared at him as if he couldn’t believe his brother had said something so tactless, but Sam wasn’t insulted at all.

“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning. “That’s mostly due to being raised by equally dysfunctional people, I suppose. Dean’s not exactly the most socially acceptable person in the world, to say the least.”

“This Dean character sounds pretty interesting,” Gabriel commented. Sam appraised him, thinking for the hundredth time that he and Dean would get along scarily well. Either that, or hate each other’s guts. Either way- getting the two together would be far from boring.

“He is,” Sam said. “It’s not always a bad thing though,” he joked. “Another thing for kids like Leigh is that they find sarcasm and jokes kind of hard to grasp. They can’t tell apart when someone is being serious or teasing, and Dean is so sarcastic…I asked him to stop, because Leigh couldn’t tell that he was just kidding, but he wouldn’t have that. Took it upon himself to teach her sarcasm.” Sam frowned down at the tabletop. “Now that I’m saying this out loud, maybe it is always a bad thing…”

Castiel smiled and gave a light chuckle, but Gabriel was staring at Sam as if he had just realized something.

“So…hold up,” Gabriel said and both men turned their attention to him. “What I’m getting from this is that autism is defined by being antisocial and socially awkward and unable to understand sarcasm.” He fixed Castiel with a scrutinizing look. “Cas, do you think maybe you…?”

Castiel shot him a very unimpressed glare. “It is probable. Except I don’t fit _all_ the criteria. Autism in adults is harder to recognize.”

Gabriel shrugged. “That sucks. I was hoping to have some legitimate reason to send him to therapy other than ‘he freaks people out’.” Sam smiled and Castiel rolled his eyes. “Oh well. Maybe some Sarcasm 101 with your brother might be good for him. Some private tutoring maybe…if you know what I mean.” Gabriel winked and Sam laughed loudly as the color rose to Castiel’s cheeks again.

“Well, Cas _is_ Dean’s type,” Sam said, glancing at Castiel, who was blushing furiously now.

“And what’s Dean’s type, then?” Gabriel grinned.

“Breathing,” Sam deadpanned.

The three of them burst out laughing.

Sam didn’t go home until four hours later, a pleasant ache in his ribs from laughing so hard, an unshakable grin on his face, and a new nickname because Gabriel figured that if he couldn’t call him ‘Sammy’, he’d just have to come up with his own pet name.

Sam wasn’t sure how he felt about being referred to as ‘Sammich’ for the rest of his life, but it had been the least vulgar of all of the other ones Gabriel had suggested.

*******

**Monday**

Unlike most working people his age, Castiel really loved Mondays. There was a certain peace to the day, a feeling of slowness and dragging. Most people would call it ‘boring’ or ‘tedious’. Castiel thought it was relaxing.

Working at the bakery on a Monday was the best. Once you get past the morning coffee rush- they went through probably a dozen bags of coffee grounds and made almost $200 on it alone from 6 am when they open to 11 am- the rest of the day is pretty simple. People work, go to their offices, file paperwork, send e-mails, answer phone calls, then they get out for lunch between 12 and 1 pm, where they come in for donuts and pastries after their chicken Caesar salads and Subway sandwiches, telling themselves that they’ve earned themselves a little treat after eating such a healthy lunch. They take their little brown paper bags back to their cubicles and get jelly stains on their paperwork. Very few people stay and eat on Mondays, and Castiel always makes sure to restock the paper bag supply Sunday night after closing, specifically for the Monday rush. After the self-congratulatory dessert rush, the day goes by sluggishly, with maybe a dozen customers coming in between that hour until closing time at 9.

Which is why Castiel is a little surprised when at 11:00 am- too early to be let out for lunch and too late for it to be the morning rush- the little bell above the door dings as it’s opened and he looks up from where he’s wiping the counter to see a man with short spiky hair, about his age, wearing heavy boots, ripped jeans and a Metallica T-Shirt under his leather jacket step inside, looking around at the restaurant with his brows furrowed, as if he’s looking for something.

The guy’s eyes find the counter, slip over Castiel and his eyes catch something, his face lighting up with a smile. He saunters up to the counter, right in front of the register and demands, “Pumpkin pie!” with an entirely too-cocky grin. He doesn’t even look at Castiel.

Castiel narrows his eyes, trying to fight down the irritation. He’s dealt with some rude customers before, but they’ve all at least looked him in the face as they blatantly disregarded the rules of common etiquette.

“We don’t have any pumpkin pie, sir,” he told the guy curtly. “Not in the middle of summer, but you can come back in October. Or go to Costco.”

The guy’s eyes finally rose to meet Castiel’s, and the grin was still on his face, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Really?” he asked, sounding amused. “’Cause I could swear I saw a slice behind the counter there.”

Castiel starts saying, as politely as possible, “Sir, pumpkins are not in season, so we do not have-” but there’s a flurry of movement behind him that cuts him off, brushing his legs with a giggle and when he looks, Leigh is rushing past him to go around the counter and barrel straight into the man’s legs, wrapping her arms around him.

“No, Mr. Cas!” Leigh giggles, wrapping her legs around the guy’s waist as he picks her up and carries her at his side. “ _I’m_ P-Pumpkin Pie!” she explains. “This is my Uncle Dean and I’m his Pumpkin P-Pie! R-Right, Uncle D-Dean?”

“That’s right,” Dean laughs. “’Cause I just wanna eat you up.” He makes growling noises, burying his face in her neck and pretending to eat her, making her laugh louder. He pulls away with a chuckle and turns back to Cas with a smile. “Sorry, man. Must’ve sounded pretty rude there for a minute. ‘S just my nickname for her.” He shifts his grip on Leigh so he can hold his hand out for Castiel. “Dean Winchester. Sam’s brother.”

“Castiel Novak,” he responds, taking Dean’s hand and shaking it firmly, smiling in return because the affection he showed for his niece was almost as endearing as the obvious adoration Leigh was showing him.

“So, where’s my geek of a brother?” Dean asks, hand around Leigh’s calf again.

“Daddy w-went to the bathroom,” Leigh explains as she fiddles with the collar of Dean’s jacket. “So he left m-me with Mr. C-Cas.” She points at Castiel, who smiles at her. “He’s r-really nice.”

“I’m sure he is,” Dean drawls, giving Castiel an appreciative look that makes the other man squirm uncomfortably.

“Thank you, Leigh,” Castiel turns to the little girl, shaking off the look and the feeling it sent down his spine. “I find your company quite lovely as well.” He took Leigh’s hand in his and kissed the back of it, making her giggle and blush, burying her face in Dean’s neck.

“Looks like someone’s got a bit of a crush,” Dean teased, bouncing Leigh slightly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” came a soft, amused voice behind Dean and they all turned to look at a smiling Sam. “Leigh is way too young to start dating.”

“That’s true,” Dean agreed, giving Leigh a slight squeeze. “It looks like poor Mr. Cas here will just have to wait a couple of years. Until then,” he winked at Cas, who looked taken aback by the action, “I’m free.”

“All right then!” Sam cut in loudly, grabbing Dean’s shoulders and hauling him away from the register as Castiel’s cheeks swirled pink. “No more harassing our new friends. Sit down.”

Completely unfazed by Sam’s reprimand, Dean settled Leigh down in her chair when she pointed it out to him and pulled out a chair for himself from another table, set it down next to hers and draped his jacket over the back of it before sitting down.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” Sam asked as he sat in his own chair. “I was just about to take Leigh over to your place.”

“I thought I’d come by and pick her up myself, so you didn’t have to make the trip,” Dean shrugged. “You two weren’t at the apartment, so I figured you’d be at the little bakery across the street that Leigh is always goin’ on about. Now I see why she likes this place so much,” he added, tossing an appreciative glance at the register where Castiel was now counting money, lips moving rapidly.

Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean’s face. “Stop that. Leigh likes this place ‘cause the food is great.” It was only half a lie. The food _was_ fantastic, but it wasn’t the pastries Leigh was always going on about. It was her new best friends Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Cas. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Leigh nodded her head furiously, looking up from the coloring book she was bent over. “You have to t-try the pie, Uncle D-Dean! I know how m-much you like pie!”

Dean grinned, leaning over the table to poke her nose. “And what’s my favorite pie?”

“Pumpkin Pie!” Leigh squealed, throwing her hands up in the air. “But your f-favorite _food_ pie is a-apple! Hey, Mr. Cas!” She turned in her seat to smile dazzlingly at Castiel, who quirked his eyebrow at her. “Can you get a s-slice of apple pie for my u-uncle please?”

“You can put it on my tab, Cas,” Sam added, smiling at the man, and Leigh poked his dimple.

Castiel smiled back at them, nodding. “Gabriel will have a fresh slice right out of the oven in a minute, just for him.” He turned and headed into the kitchen.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Right out of the oven, huh? Either you two get special treatment here or this is the best service I’ve ever seen.”

“B-Both!” Leigh giggled, returning to her crayons and coloring book.

Sam held up a hand to cover his mouth from Leigh’s line of sight and whispered to Dean across the table, “She’s got ‘em both wrapped around her little finger.”

Dean laughed at that, ruffling Leigh’s hair. “That’s my girl.” She grinned toothily up at him, the gap in the bottom row standing out in stark contrast with the tiny, white teeth.

Ten minutes later, Gabriel came out with a large, juicy slice of apple pie, amber syrup dripping from the crust and pooling at the sides, a big dollop of whipped cream on top. Sam could practically see Dean’s eyes dilating and his mouth watering as the scent hit him.

“You must be Dean,” Gabriel said cheerily, setting the plate down in front of him. His eyes raked over Dean’s form, his face and his body, and he gave an appreciative nod. “You _are_ pretty hot. Now I don’t feel so bad about being mistaken for you.”

Dean’s eyes finally tore away from the pie and up at Gabriel, a mildly horrified expression on his face.

“I didn’t m-mistake you, Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh protested. “I knew you were y-you and I know Uncle Dean is Uncle D-Dean! I’m not d-dumb!” She pouted and Gabriel pinched her cheek.

“No, you’re not,” Gabriel agreed. “ _You_ are adorable.”

“I know that t-too,” she smiled.

Not even Sam and Gabriel’s combined laughter could mask the moan of pleasure Dean made as he took a bite of the pie.

***

**JULY**

The bakery really shouldn’t be the most comfortable place for Sam to focus on his paperwork. In fact, it should be downright impossible to focus sitting in the restaurant, what with all the bustle constantly going on around him. A few feet to his left, the bell above the door rings every time someone enters or exits. And, considering how popular the bakery is and how many regular customers they have, is often. The bell is almost constantly ringing, barely ever taking a pause and Sam thinks it must be tired of being pushed back and forth. He knows he’s tired of _hearing_ it.

To his right, there’s the almost-always-full line of customers waiting to place their order, shuffling from foot to foot, talking to one another, talking on the phone, grumbling to themselves about how late they are to wherever they were supposed to be. The grumblers stand right in front of his table after they place their order, right at the end of the counter where Harry hands out filled orders. They’re the people who need to collect their order the _second_ it’s in front of them because they need to leave _right now_ and can’t afford the time it would take to sit down and wait till Harry calls out the order once it’s filled. They tap their toes impatiently, check their watches compulsively, and mumble and bitch under their breaths.

All around him, the people who actually have time to take a seat and enjoy their meal, or their snack, or their coffee, or whatever, sit and relax. Some of them are in pairs or little groups of threes and fours, sitting around one of the small circle tables, chatting and laughing. Some of them a little too loudly, some of them having the decency to keep their voices at a respectful level. Others sit by themselves, enjoying the solitude without being alone. Some read books and newspapers and magazines. Some just look around the bakery, watching the other customers casually as they chew and swallow, then bringing their eyes back down as they take another bite.

Ed moves around the tables constantly, sometimes bumping into people and apologizing. He clears the tables after any particularly rude customer has left their mess behind and then wipes it down, collecting the crumbs off the table top and leaving it pristine for the next customer who would like a seat. When there’s a spill or an accident, he’s always ready with a mop or a broom or a rag, always brushing off the patron’s apologies with a polite smile. When there’s nothing to clean, he helps Harry and Castiel behind the counter, chatting with Harry about the latest released spoiler for the next season of _Fringe_ or _The Walking Dead_. If there was no new spoiler to analyze, they settle for discussing _Buffy, Star Trek_ and _Battlestar: Galactica_ reruns. Gabriel has forbidden them from discussing their latest ghost hunt in the shop, because even though he finds it interesting, it tends to freak the customers out. However, when the rush has died down and the only people left in the restaurant are Sam and a few other stragglers, Sam has often caught snippets of their conversation involving recording equipment, rumors over a legend or other, and how they’re totally gonna kick some ectoplasmic ass.

All of the hustle and bustle in the restaurant should be hard to ignore and it should distract him from his work, but it really doesn’t. It’s kind of surprising. He’s perfectly comfortable, sitting in his seat by the end of the counter, with his paperwork and files spread out on the tiny table, his laptop in its case, sitting in Leigh’s empty seat. He’s got his coffee- three sugars, two creams- in the corner of the table that hasn’t been overtaken by papers and files. Leigh is off behind the counter with Castiel, one tiny hand curled into his pants as he takes orders and money and hands back change. She’s become a regular assistant, running back and forth between the kitchen and the counter, taking the special orders that Castiel jots down to Gabriel, then bringing out the orders from the kitchen. Every now and then, she’ll escape from the counter and run along the tables, picking up wrappers and cups that customers leave behind, earning her a grateful smile and a hair ruffle from Ed.

Sam feels at ease in the bakery, with friendly people keeping an eye on his daughter while he focuses on his work, the taste of sweet coffee on his tongue, the delicious smell of various pastries and baking bread filling his nose. It’s a good place to be, and Sam and Leigh have found themselves spending more time here than in their apartment over the last month. Sam hasn’t even finished unpacking the last of the boxes because of the limited amount of time he spends at home.

The only times Sam finds it hard to concentrate is when Gabriel is around. He mostly stays in the kitchen, baking and preparing special orders. But when the rush dies down and there’s nothing to be prepared or baked or decorated or set up, he joins everyone out in the main area, taking over Ed’s cleaning work when Ed’s on break. He’s the kind of boss that likes to be very hands-on, doesn’t just hover and supervise over his employees. He helps them out, doing inventory with Cas and refilling napkin dispensers or making sure the bathroom’s stocked with toilet paper and soap. Sam appreciates that in a boss- completely unlike his own boss Crowley, who holds himself to such a high regard that he’s too good for anyone else and everyone around him is an incompetent twat. Gabriel treats his three employees with respect. Four, if you count Leigh. But he treats Leigh like a princess, so that’s different.

Sam likes Gabriel’s work ethic, he respects it. The problem is that Gabriel is loud. Louder than any of the patrons. When there’s barely anyone in the restaurant, he sings. And it’s not the quiet, under-the-breath singing that people do when they’re cleaning or something. No, it’s loud and boisterous and obnoxious, much like his personality. At least his singing voice isn’t terrible, or else Sam might not be able to tolerate it. Sometimes, when it’s quiet in the shop, and Gabriel is in the kitchen, Sam can hear his voice carrying through the thin wall, and he smiles, because it’s a bit endearing. But when Gabriel comes out, weaves through the tables, cleaning and wiping, it’s not very endearing at all. It’s irritating.

Castiel seems used to it, or maybe he’s got more patience than most people Sam has ever met, but Harry and Ed look just as annoyed as he feels whenever Gabriel starts. Leigh enjoys it, laughing and singing along with Gabriel if she knows the song. Sam supposes that Gabriel teaches Leigh all his favorite songs when they’re in the kitchen together, because she often sings them at home as well.

It’s a slow Wednesday in July that Leigh discovers her purpose in life and comes running up to Sam, jumping excitedly next to him, tugging at his sleeve.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

Sam sets down his pen because if he doesn’t, he’s going to get a huge scribble on the report he’s proofreading with the way Leigh is shaking his arm. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asks her, turning to give her his full attention.

“I figured out what I wanna be when I gr-grow up!” she announced grandly and Sam’s eyebrows shot up, showing her how surprised he was at her revelation.

“Really?” he asked her, putting just enough excitement in his voice. “And what’s that?” Movement over Leigh’s head caught his eye and he glanced up to see Gabriel out of the kitchen, leaning over the counter to watch them, grinning an impish grin, a twinkle in his eye and Sam wonders what idea he’s put in his daughter’s head. If he paid her to say ‘stripper’ or something, Sam may have to step on his head.

“I wanna be a b-baker! Like Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh proclaimed, smiling so bright that Sam was almost blinded.

Sam’s head shot up to look at Gabriel with mock-accusation, and he just shrugged innocently.

“I was just showing her how I bake bread,” Gabriel explained. “She said she thought it was cool and that she liked working in the shop, so she was going to be a baker just like me when she grew up.” His smile widened as he said, “I asked her if she didn’t wanna be a lawyer like her daddy and…what did you say to me, Leigh?”

“That being a lawyer is b-boring!” she said happily and Sam snorted in laughter.

“That’s right!” Gabriel exclaimed cheerily. “Now why don’t you go annoy Mr. Cas while I talk to your dad about your future career possibilities, hm?”

“Okay!” She ran off around the counter, and it was too high for Sam to see her running along behind it, but he knew when she crashed into Castiel’s legs by the way he swayed and his eyes widened before flashing down and softening with a smile.

Gabriel came around the counter and leaned his hip against Sam’s table, being careful not to disturb his paperwork. “Guess what just happened in the kitchen.”

Sam frowned. It couldn’t be something bad, considering Leigh looked completely unharmed and happy. But whatever it was, it made Gabriel smug and that wasn’t necessarily good news for anyone. “My daughter chose your profession over mine?” Sam hazarded.

“Well, yeah, that,” Gabriel quirked his head. “But! While I was making the bread, she went on one of her little acid trips or something, and said ‘Daddy’.”

Sam frowned, not understanding. Leigh had associated something in the kitchen with him? She had been getting better at distinguishing the sense from the person lately, but it was still difficult for her sometimes.

“Now, I don’t know what it was _exactly,_ and I asked her, but she just giggled and shrugged. But it was _something._ Maybe it was the yeast.” He leaned down and sniffed obnoxiously at Sam’s neck. “You do smell a little yeasty.”

“Get away, you friggin’ creep,” Sam groused, pushing Gabriel’s shoulder lightly with an amused smile.

“Fine,” Gabriel grinned, leaning back to his original position. “I’m gonna find out what it is though. Just you wait.”

Sam snorted. “Good luck with that.” He couldn’t deny that he was interested too, but he wasn’t about to go all Mythbuster on the situation to try to figure it out like Gabriel seemed so determined to do. “Let me know when you figure it out, will ya?”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Gabriel agreed, grinning down at him. Sam smiled back at him and they just stayed there for a minute, watching each other’s faces. Eventually, Gabriel broke the comfortable silence with a soft, “You know, being a baker isn’t so bad.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, lips quirked. “I suppose,” he conceded. “There are worse things she could be.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, nodding with a smile. “Like a stuffy, heartless lawyer.” He ruffled Sam’s hair playfully and Sam jerked away from him.

“Paralegal,” Sam corrected him as he walked away.

“All right. Half-stuffy, half-hearted half-lawyer,” Gabriel amended, making his way to the kitchen.


	2. Part 2

**AUGUST**

The display case was spotless already, Gabriel was sure, but he didn’t stop wiping it down. He figured that any more wiping would erode the glass away to nothing eventually, but he didn’t really care, because he was in the perfect position to intervene if things got too heated between Sam and Dean. From this position, he could keep an eye and an ear on their conversation without looking suspicious.

Gabriel didn’t think that Sam would let their discussion get too out of hand in public, being the more level-headed of the two; but Gabriel could see a vein in Sam’s neck bulging, and it made him think twice. As much as Gabriel didn’t like to admit it, he and Dean were very similar in personalities and neither of them knew when to stop pushing. Judging by how the vein was threatening to burst in Sam’s neck, Dean should have probably stopped pushing a few miles back.

Gabriel knows that vein well. It’s a vein that he thinks only little brothers are born with. It’s the ‘my big brother is being unreasonably stupid and I want to tell him to fuck off but I’m still his little brother and I’ve been showing him respect and looking up to him all my life so it’s kind of hard’ vein. Gabriel gets it. He’s seen it ticking away in Castiel’s neck often enough to be very familiar with it.

From what Gabriel could infer from his surveillance- because he is a grown, mature man and he does _not_ eavesdrop- Sam and Dean had started this discussion last night on the phone, Sam had hung up on Dean and now Dean was here to pick up where they left off, much to Sam’s annoyance. Gabriel had also made out exactly what it was the brothers were arguing about and he was itching to cut in and put in his two cents, but it was a family matter and Gabriel was sure two months of friendship didn’t give him that kind of privilege.

“Sammy, if you would just hear me out,” Dean was pleading, leaning over the table towards Sam. Gabriel found it kind of comical how accurately their body language reflected their conversation- Dean with his hands upturned on the table, reaching out and opening up towards Sam, who was sitting back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, closed off to his brother.

“I have been, Dean,” Sam retorted. “And I don’t agree.”

“But Sam-”

“I don’t even know why we’re still arguing about this,” Sam cut in. “The paperwork is done, everything’s in order and come September, Leigh’s going to school.”

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed, leaning forward and hissing, “in a _special ed_ class!”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” Sam replied calmly, taking a sip from his coffee. To anyone not paying attention, he would look impassive and unperturbed by his brother’s intense and disapproving frown, but Gabriel was paying attention and he could see the vein doing a two-step in his neck.

“Because she doesn’t friggin’ _need_ special ed, Sam!” Dean snapped back and Gabriel was grateful he was still keeping his voice down. If he didn’t, Gabriel would have to intervene and then they’d probably end up on each other’s bad sides, and he kind of liked Dean.

Gabriel glanced over to the register, where Castiel was with Leigh, who was sitting up on the counter, feet dangling over the edge. She was sitting with her back to the restaurant, so she couldn’t see her father and uncle hissing at each other. Judging by the way Castiel kept casting furtive, wary glances at the brothers, Gabriel supposed he had positioned her there for that very reason. He was keeping her distracted by counting money from the register, asking her to count with him.

“Dean,” Sam sighed, and Gabriel could tell he was quickly losing any kind of patience he may have had before. He wondered how often they had had this discussion. “Dr. Harvelle said that Leigh isn’t ready for a regular class, that we should put her in a class that is suited to handle kids like her and see how she does before-”

“Look, Sam,” Dean interrupted irritably, “I know you think that the sun shines out of that woman’s ass, but-”

“She’s done a lot for Leigh,” Sam snarled back, angry now.

Dean pulled away, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m not saying she hasn’t, trust me. I know how much Leigh’s improved, I’ve seen it firsthand. But, Sam, she isn’t a friggin’ retard.”

Both Sam and Gabriel winced. “Jesus, Dean, be a little more tactless, would ya?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I know, that sounds like a dick thing to say. And it’s not like I have a problem with kids who are reta- mentally handicapped,” he amended at a glare from Sam. “I’m just saying that Leigh isn’t one of them.”

“I know that, but-”

“In fact!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m willing to bet you that Leigh is smarter than all of the snot-nosed brats in the regular class.”

Sam sighed. “Dean-”

“Yo! Leigh-bear!” Dean called, completely ignoring Sam’s protests. Both Leigh and Castiel turned away from the money to look up at Dean.

“Yeah, Uncle Dean?” she smiled.

Dean grinned back at her. “When’s my birthday?”

“January twenty-four nineteen s-seventy nine!” Leigh said happily, legs kicking the air.

“When’s your daddy’s birthday?” he asked, pointing at Sam, who was glaring daggers at Dean.

“May t-two nineteen eighty th-three!”

“Dean,” Sam ground out through grit teeth, voice warning.

“How much is six plus four?” Dean went on, still ignoring Sam.

“Ten!” Leigh squealed, throwing her hands in the air.

“ _Dean.”_

“And six _times_ four?” Dean urged, not at all bothered by the vein that was about to rupture in Sam’s throat.

Leigh scrunched her nose up as she thought, and Sam shut his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm his irritation. After a moment of thinking, Leigh piped up, “Twenty f-four!”

“Haha!” Dean exclaimed happily, clapping his hands. “That’s my girl!”

“ _Dean!”_ Sam finally snapped and Dean finally turned to look at him, a smug look on his face. “Why do you have to be such stubborn asshole?” Sam growled, looking practically vehement, and Dean had the decency to look a little chagrined.

“Sam, I just want you to see that-”

“My kid’s a fucking genius?” Sam whispered harshly, leaning in towards Dean now and now Dean was the one to lean away. “Yeah, I know she is. That’s not the fucking point. Do you think that kindergarten is about how much she does or doesn’t know? How much she’s going to learn? _No._ Fuck, Dean, kindergarten is like a friggin’ glorified day care. They learn to count, they learn colors, and they learn how to read ‘cat in the hat’. And, no, not the book.The _words._ If it were for that, I’d keep her home and teach her colors and reading myself. But kindergarten is about _social interaction._ It’s about being around other kids and learning how to live around them, to work with them. And Leigh _can’t._ She doesn’t know how and it’s hard for her to learn that. You’ve seen her with Ben.”

Gabriel did a quick mental recall and remembered that Ben is Dean’s ex-girlfriend’s son. Seven or eight years old, if he remembers correctly.

“She’s a completely different person around kids her own age, she doesn’t know how to talk to them, how to interact with them on any level. Putting her in a regular class with all of them…can you imagine the teasing and the harassing and…” Sam swallowed, pulling away, looking more solemn than vehement. “I’m not putting her through that.”

They were silent for a while, Sam twirling the cup of coffee between his palms, staring down at the table as if he were willing it to catch on fire. Dean leaned back in the chair, finger tapping on the tabletop, looking away awkwardly. Gabriel wanted to take a knife and cut through the tension in the air, but it was _so tense_ that he couldn’t even move.

“You’re right,” Dean said quietly, and both Gabriel and Sam turned to look at him- Gabriel simply turning his head slightly and eyeing him out of the corner of his eye, because he was still eavesdropping. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re her dad, you know what’s best for her.”

Sam smiled wryly. “And you’re her uncle and you’re just looking out for her. So…thanks. Even if you’re a jerk about it.”

“Wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t such a bitch,” Dean retorted, lips quirked in a grin.

Finally satisfied that the display glass was clean, Gabriel smiled and moved away, around the counter to join Castiel and Leigh.

*******

**SEPTEMBER**

Sam felt like he had blinked and woken up in September.

Where had the summer gone? Was it really time for Leigh to start school? Was she really growing up this fast? She was going to _school._

For six hours a day, Leigh would be away from Sam. While Sam was used to that while he was at work, Leigh wouldn’t just be with Dean all day. She’d be at _school_ with strangers. Teachers he didn’t know and other students he didn’t trust.

As Sam packed Leigh’s notebooks in her cute little backpack- she had specifically asked for the pink one with the big yellow butterfly on the front pocket- he wanted to throw the damn thing out the window, scoop his daughter up in his arms and take her to his bed where they could lay curled up together watching TV and poking each other till their ribs hurt from laughing. And never leave. Never go out into the cruel world where teachers had time-out corners and kids had harsh senses of humor.

“Daddy!” Leigh called, pulling a hairbrush through one of her pigtails. “I’m hungry! C-Can I have br-breakfast?”

“Sure,” Sam muttered, still a little dazed as he stared at his little girl, looking so big in her jeans and butterfly shirt (what is it with her and the friggin’ butterflies?) and her blonde curls pulled up into two pretty pigtails. Her brand new sneakers squeaked against the tile and there was a little white tooth starting to protrude from her bottom gum like a seedling poking through soil, growing out and soon she was going to be a teenager and she’d need braces and _oh my god she’s growing up so fast._ “Did you take your pills?”

When she nodded emphatically, pigtails swinging, Sam smiled. “Let’s go down to the bakery. Gabriel said he made you something special for lunch.”

They had rarely been to the bakery so early, especially on a Monday, but they were going to have to start getting used to waking up earlier every day for at least the next twelve years.

Castiel was actually yawning when they got in. Sam had never seen Castiel yawning. He always seemed so alert and professional.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam mumbled. “Haven’t gotten your coffee in yet?”

Castiel smiles tiredly at them. “We opened thirty minutes ago and we’ve already run out of coffee. Gabriel’s getting some more now so I can be coherent when the next wave comes.”

Sam snorts. “It’s a new school year, Cas,” he says, all false cheer. “We’re all waking up early from now on.” He looks around at the bakery. There were only five people. A mother and her middle-school aged child, a teenager with a brightly-colored uniform shirt and dark circles under her eyes sipping coffee like it was going to save her life, and a couple that looked way too chipper for six thirty on a Monday morning. "Where is everyone then?”

“Probably heard you were on your way,” Gabriel says, coming out through the kitchen with a big bag of coffee grounds in his arms. “So they ran to save themselves from being subjected to your ugly mug. Can’t say I blame them.”

“Good morning to you too, Gabriel,” Sam smiles. “I’ll make sure to stop coming by so I don’t negatively affect your business anymore.”

There was a sharp tug on Sam’s hand and he looked down to meet his daughter’s wide, wet hazel eyes. “We’re not coming here anymore?” she asked, as if Sam had just said she had to eat nothing but broccoli for the next year.

Gabriel snorted. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he said to Leigh as he fired up the coffee machine, then came around to lean over the counter and give Leigh his brightest grin. “It would take an earthquake to get your daddy to stop coming here.”

As sad as it was to admit it, Gabriel wasn’t that far off. Sam hadn’t done grocery shopping in three weeks, hadn’t cooked anything more complicated than a bowl of Mac n’ Cheese, and yet he and Leigh hadn’t gone hungry a single day. It was probably unhealthy how dependent he was on Gabriel’s food. But it was _so good._

The smile Leigh gave Gabriel after being reassured that they weren’t being banned from the bakery was enough to have Sam begging at Gabriel’s feet if he could just make her smile like that all the time.

“Can we get breakfast now?” Sam asked Gabriel, fake irritation in his voice. “Before Leigh graduates, preferably.”

Gabriel straightened up and smirked at Sam. “Right away. And I’ll bring Leigh’s lunch out too. Made something special for her.” He winked at the little girl before disappearing through the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Leigh were packing up into Sam’s car, Leigh clutching a brown paper bag with her name scrawled in swirly print across the front with Sharpie. There was even a butterfly dotting the ‘i’.

Castiel and Gabriel both kissed, hugged, and wished her luck before they were swarmed with a new wave of customers. Before Sam got through the door, Gabriel pulled him back to whisper in his ear, “Stop being so anxious. You’re practically shitting bricks, man. She’ll be fine.” Then he released Sam’s arm, patted his back and went into the kitchen.

Sam was still nervous as hell as he drove Leigh to school, but he felt slightly more reassured.

***

Leigh apparently did not like school at all.

When she got home, her fingers were covered in bandages and there was a note from the school nurse saying, ‘ _Leigh kept chewing on her fingers, so we wrapped them to avoid further damage.’_

Sam sighed as he placed the note on the coffee table and looked over at his daughter, looking shut off and blank, arms crossed in front of her chest, staring at the wall across from her.

He remembered when he had talked to her teacher, had given her details about Leigh’s condition including nervous tics and habits. At least they had been prepared.

“Leigh,” Sam started, but Leigh did not react. He shuffled closer to her on the couch, put an arm around her shoulders. “Leigh, sweetie, what happened?”

She swallowed, but did not respond.

He decided to start with a simpler question and work up from there.

“What happened to your fingers?” he asked her gently.

There was a pause. Leigh seemed to want to respond to Sam, but she was in one of those states where communicating at all, even with him, was difficult. “I b-bit them,” she stuttered out finally.

“Okay,” Sam said slowly, pushing a stray curl from her forehead carefully. “And why did you bite them?”

“I w-was…” she trailed off and bit her lip, chewed on it and Sam touched his thumb to her chin to pull it out from between her teeth before she ran it ragged like her fingers. Her brow furrowed and she looked frustrated, as if the right word was evading her.

“Scared?” Sam offered, but she shook her head.

“Nervous?” Another no.

“Sad?” No.

“Angry?” Leigh started to shake her head, but stopped, as if reconsidering her answer. “Were you angry, Leigh?” Sam urged.

Leigh’s eyes narrowed, as if it didn’t quite satisfy her, but she couldn’t think of anything better. “A…little?”

“Who were you angry with?”

Her face closed off and she pulled her knees up to her chest before raising her hand to her mouth and biting down on her bandaged forefinger. The plastic didn’t seem to deter her though. It looked as if she was determined to chew right through it and get to her skin. Sam quickly pulled it away from her mouth and gathered her up into his lap, wrapping his big arms around her.

“Leigh,” he said, gentle yet firm. “Who were you angry with?”

Leigh swallowed and curled up against Sam’s chest, gripping his shirt with her tiny, covered fingers. She burrowed her face in it and mumbled, so Sam felt her reply more than heard it. “Me.”

Sam swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Why were you angry at yourself, sweetie?” His voice was soft, low, because he was afraid if he spoke any louder, it would crack and give away his weakness.

Leigh was quiet for a long time but Sam didn’t ask again. He didn’t want to make her feel like she was being interrogated, like she had done something wrong.

Right when Sam was sure she had fallen asleep against him, her quiet voice came, stuttering and stumbling through her words so it took a long time for the whole sentence to get out completely. “The other ki-kids t-talked to me…a-and I d-didn’t know wh-what to s-say…or h-how to play w-with th-them… and I f-felt st-stupid.”

Sam felt his heart clench and his breath come heavy. He had been expecting this, of course he had. He knew it would happen. But that didn’t mean it was any less painful to have his daughter say it to him, so self-depreciating and miserable.

“Come on, honey,” he said, putting her up on her feet and getting up with her to take her hand. “Let’s go play some games.”

For the rest of the day, Sam sat with Leigh on her bedroom floor, drawing pictures and playing games that Dr. Harvelle had taught Sam to play with her whenever she felt down about herself. They were designed to boost her self-esteem and make her more comfortable with herself, but by the end of the day when Leigh went to take a shower, she still felt upset.

When she came back out, in her pajamas and ready for bed, Sam tucked her in, kissed her and said, “Don’t worry. The first days of school are always the scariest. Give it a few days till you get used to it, and it’ll get better.”

After kissing her goodnight and making sure she was carefully tucked in, Sam went back outside and retrieved his phone. There were twelve messages and five missed calls from Dean and Gabriel, alternatively.

Dean’s messages started as a simple, **how did skool go 4 leigh?** then progressed to **is everything ok?** and eventually to **SAM PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE.**

Gabriel’s were similar, except with better spelling.

**How’s Leigh? Did she like school?**

**Sam?**

**You dead?**

**Should I call the police?**

**Or Dean?**

**Call me when you can, k? Just so I can reassure Cas that you didn’t fall down a well.**

Sam smiled softly to himself and sent them both the same message. **We’re both fine. Sorry for not getting back earlier. School sucked, I’m exhausted. Going to bed, talk tomorrow.**

He put his phone to charge and if either of them replied to him, he didn’t notice.

***

School did not get better, apparently.

Every day for the first week, Leigh came home with fresh bandages on her fingers and a perpetual miserable look on her face.

Once the weekend came and Sam told her she wouldn’t have to go back to school for two whole days, she finally smiled and clapped her hands excitedly. Sam hoped she would get over this rough patch. They still had twelve years of school plus how many ever of college to go through and it would be absolutely abysmal if Leigh was depressed for five days a week the whole time.

The next Monday, he managed to convince a stubborn Leigh to get out of the car and go to school after twenty minutes of negotiating and bribing and eventually just putting his foot down and playing the ‘I am your father and you will do as I say!’ card, which he absolutely hated.

Leigh shot him a dirty look over her shoulder as she climbed up the steps to the entrance with the other kids and Sam ran a hand over his face once she was out of sight, sighing heavily. Today was going to be a horrible day, he just knew it.

***

Sometimes Sam wondered if he had some kind of psychic abilities.

It was 1:30. It was still early. Leigh didn’t get out until 3 when Dean would go to pick her up because Sam didn’t get out of work till 4.

Sam was going over some of Crowley’s notes and he had to get them done before he went home because the case was tomorrow and Crowley needed to be properly prepared. He was probably going to have to put in overtime to finish them and he was just contemplating texting Dean to ask him to watch Leigh for a few extra hours that afternoon till he was done when his cellphone rang.

The caller ID said it was the school nurse (because Sam had saved all of the school’s numbers in his contact list before Leigh started _just in case_ ) and his heart stopped. Was she okay?

“Hello, this is Sam,” he answered, hoping his voice was steadier than his heartbeat.

“Mr. Winchester?” the soft voice on the other end said. “Hi, this is Mrs. Saunders, Leigh’s school nurse. She-”

“Is Leigh all right?” he cut in desperately, mind jumping to the worst possible scenarios.

“She’s fine, don’t worry,” Mrs. Saunders cut in hurriedly to reassure him. “There’s just been a…uhm… _incident._ ”

Sam closed his eyes and held his breath. Leigh had had an episode. Had she had a seizure? Had she freaked out? Panic attack? Hyperventilation? Had she even taken her pills that morning? He couldn’t remember…

“We had a fire drill this afternoon and, although the students in Leigh’s class-” the special ed students in the special ed class, she meant “-were warned, Leigh probably wasn’t expecting it to be so loud.”

It clicked. “Let me guess,” Sam muttered. “Screaming, curling up, rocking back and forth, peed herself?” This wasn’t the first time it had happened. After the first seizure, Leigh had been diagnosed with autism and epilepsy, which was triggered by bright, flashing lights or loud noises. Her pills helped avoid full-on seizures but the triggers still affected her badly.

There was a pause. “I take it this has happened before?”

Sam sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned his elbows on his desk. “Once or twice. How is she?”

“The other kids made fun of her,” the nurse admitted. “She got really upset. She was just crying and really, really distraught. She’s still crying and refuses to go back to class. We have some spare clothes here in case the kids have accidents, but she’s just inconsolable, won’t stop crying long enough to listen to any of us. She keeps saying she wants to go home.”

 _Fuck._ Sam sighed and ran a hand over his face, rubbing his forehead, trying to stop the headache that was quickly forming. “Uh…I…I have a lot of work to do, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out of it. Tell Leigh I’m going to try, but if I can’t, I’ll give her uncle a call to pick her up.”

“I’ll let her know,” Mrs. Saunders assured him.

“Thanks a lot,” he replied sincerely and hung up.

Sam let out a deep breath and got up from his desk. He went around and braced himself before knocking on Crowley’s door.

“Come in, if you must,” came the low British drawl from the other side, dripping arrogance.

Sam hated his boss. A lot of people hate their bosses, but Sam didn’t think they compared to the sheer loathing he felt towards Crowley.

As a lawyer, he was amazing. He stereotypically had no soul and ruthlessly steamrolled over all his opponents, making him famous and coveted for his services.

As a person, however...

To put it lightly, he left much to be desired. The man was pompous, egotistical, haughty, and had a severe superiority complex.

Sam hoped that when he went back to school to get his own license, he would be able to take some of the experience he had learned observing Crowley but leave behind the callousness.

“Mr. Crowley?” Sam said tentatively as he stepped inside. He had realized early on that the best way to deal with Crowley was treat him as if he were a poisonous snake- don’t show fear, but don’t try to overpower him and just carefully make your way around him with no sudden movements.

“Yes?” he snapped, not even looking up from his papers.

“My daughter had an incident at school,” Sam started, knowing full well that talking about Leigh would get him no sympathy points from this cold-hearted asshole. “I need to go pick her up and take her home.” That made Crowley finally look up, eyebrow raised coldly, so Sam quickly added, “I’ll get the work done. I’ll just take it with me and finish it at home, but she really needs me and-”

“Is she dying?” Crowley asked, not sounding very troubled or concerned.

Already knowing where this conversation was going, Sam’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “No, sir,” he ground out.

Crowley’s teeth flashed as he smirked. “Well, then, I’m sure she’ll be able to manage for another few hours until you’re finished.”

Sam really wanted to do a couple of things right then. Mainly, reach over and sucker punch Crowley right in his smug face then quit his job. Or get in his car and go to pick up Leigh anyways, which would ultimately get him fired. But even though Sam had a problem with his temper, he knew better than to act on it.

“All right,” he ground out, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as he thought it did. “Can I at least take ten minutes to call my brother and see if he can pick her up?”

Crowley considered him for a moment, pen twirling between his fingers. After a moment where Sam was reconsidering the whole ‘no punching’ decision, Crowley shrugged and turned back to his papers. “I suppose.” He waved a hand at Sam, dismissing him, and Sam didn’t even bother thanking him before turning away and closing the door behind him.

He picked up his phone from where he had left it on his desk and pressed the first speed-dial for Dean’s cell.

It rang a handful of times then went to voicemail. Sam swore under his breath and tried again.

Voicemail again. Breathing deeply, Sam tried a few more times and was sent to voicemail each one.

He decided to send Dean a text. **Answer the goddamn phone! Leigh 911.**

As soon as the message sent, he called again. _Hey, this is Dean. I’m not here-_

Sam waited for a few minutes, glaring at his phone, hoping Dean would glance at it and see all the missed calls and the frantic message. He was obviously not ignoring Sam. Dean never just ignored Sam’s calls, especially if they were repeated and accompanied by a message that read ‘Leigh 911’.

Dean could be on fire, dousing himself with water and he’d stop just to call Sam back and find out what was wrong.

He was probably lying under a car with the music at top volume, phone on some table, vibrating away in vain.

When Dean didn’t call back, Sam pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Leigh was probably still freaking out, only slightly comforted by the news that her dad or her uncle were on their way to take her away from her own personal hell.

Sam picked his phone up, intending to call Bobby, his one other option on the rare occasion that Dean failed him. But then Sam remembered that Bobby was out of state helping his friend Rufus out with something and it would take him hours to get back.

So Sam was pretty much screwed. Leigh would be stuck there until Dean went out to pick her up at 3, two hours from now. Sam wondered if maybe she’d pass out from dehydration from crying so much or if she would be able to calm down after a while.

After another minute of reevaluating the ‘running away and risk getting fired’ option, Sam realized that there was someone else he could call.

“This is _Ga_ briel, emphasis on the _Gay._ How can I help you get off?”

Sam closed his eyes and breathed deep. “You have caller ID, why do you always answer like you don’t know who’s calling?”

“Maybe I’m answering like I know _exactly_ who’s calling, ever think of that?” Even in this situation, Sam could spare a small smile for Gabriel’s sense of humor. “What’s up, man?”

“I have a problem,” Sam said immediately. “I know it’s a lot to ask and you’re at work and all, but…dammit, my boss is the world’s biggest asshole and Leigh is freaking out and-”

“Whoa, what?” All humor was gone from Gabriel’s tone now. “What happened, Sam? Where are you?”

“I’m at work.” Sam let his face drop in his free hand. “Leigh’s at school. There was a thing…with the fire alarm, it freaked her out and she had an episode. I have to go pick her up but my boss won’t let me leave, hence the ‘world’s biggest asshole’ comment earlier-”

“Quit rambling,” Gabriel snapped. “Where’s Dean?”

“Won’t pick up his phone. Probably busy working. Gabriel, I know it’s a lot but do you think you could-?”

“What school does she go to?”

Sam took a moment to gape stupidly, half frustrated that Gabriel kept cutting him off and half amazed that he was so willing. After giving Gabriel the name and instructions on what to do once he got to the school and how to take care of Leigh for a bit, Gabriel assured him that he’d keep him updated and hung up.

It was kind of hard to get back to work with the worry gnawing at his brain but twenty minutes later, his phone vibrated and beeped, letting him know he’d gotten a message.

**Got Leigh. They told me she’s calmed down substantially, but she’s still a little shaky. Taking her to your place.**

Sam breathed easier and pressed Reply to thank Gabriel when another message arrived.

**Also, they called me her uncle. Did I miss something? Did you and Cas get married when I wasn’t looking?**

Chuckling, Sam typed up his reply: **Thanks so much, man. I owe you big time. And yes, we did. You were at the wedding. You were probably too drunk to remember, though. I’ll show you the pictures sometime.**

After that, Sam was able to focus on the notes in front of him.

Until ten minutes later when his phone started vibrating wildly in front of him, Dean’s name flashing on the screen.

Sam barely managed to get out a “Yeah?” before Dean was off.

“Sam? Sammy? What’s wrong? What happened? Is everything okay? Where’s Leigh? God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t have my phone on me…is she okay? Tell me she’s okay, man…”

“Dean, breathe,” Sam said firmly, cutting through Dean’s rambling. “Leigh’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

There was a sharp exhale on the other end. “Goddammit,” Dean grumbled. “Then what was with the text? And all those calls? Shit’s not funny, Sam.”

“Leigh _was_ in trouble, man,” Sam snapped, insulted that Dean thought he would use an emergency involving his daughter as a joke. “She had an episode at school and I couldn’t get out of work to go get her.”

There was a sharp sound that could have been Dean smacking a hand to his forehead. “Shit, Sammy, I am so sorry. I’ll leave right now, I swear, I’ll go get her.”

Sam smiled. “Dude, chill. She’s on her way home right now. I asked Gabriel to pick her up.”

“Gabriel?” Dean asked incredulously. “ _Gabriel?_ You let a total stranger pick your daughter up at school when she’s so vulnerable? _Seriously,_ man?”

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course, the same thought had occurred to him when he decided to call Gabriel, but he hadn’t had many options. “Gabriel’s not a stranger, Dean,” he argues. “He’s a friend. And Leigh adores him and she couldn’t stay there alone much longer. I needed to do _something._ ”

Sam can practically _feel_ the waves of guilt wafting off his brother through the phone. “Sam, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sam interrupted. “It’s not a big deal. Leigh’s fine, everything’s okay. No harm, no foul. You have your life, man, and it’s not constantly looking out for me and my kid.”

There was a grunt that Sam took as a disagreement, but Dean didn’t reply. “Want me to come over today? Damage control?”

“I’m just gonna try to get her settled in tonight when I get home, try to relax her, make sure she isn’t too freaked out. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s also not something you get used to, right? I’m thinking of keeping her home for a few days until I know for sure she’s up for school. Go see Dr. Harvelle and all…I should give her a call, in fact…” Sam pushed his hair out of his face and fiddled with his pen on the desk. “Can you come by tomorrow though?”

“Sure thing, Sammy.” It was obvious by Dean’s tone that he was still feeling like the world’s biggest pile of shit and Sam sighed. What else was new?

***

Sam got out at five, a whole hour after he was supposed to. There was traffic. He got home at six. He was ready to kill someone. He just wanted to see his daughter, make sure she was okay.

As he climbed the stairs (out of habit), briefcase in hand (heavy with _still_ unfinished paperwork and Crowley had been extremely persistent about Sam putting in some _more_ overtime to get it finished but Sam had actually put his foot down and promised to get it done for tomorrow), he chewed on the inside of his cheek anxiously. He wanted to just rush in through the door and find Leigh and gather her up and never let her go, but from Gabriel’s last text, she was apparently napping, so he entered the apartment silently and set his briefcase on the ground, trying not to be loud so as not to wake Leigh up.

But apparently Leigh was already up, and talking. And crying.

“I’m w-weird,” she was sobbing out and Sam’s heart lurched. He felt the urge to storm in and hug her close and tell her she was perfect, but he restrained himself when he heard Gabriel speak.

“Why do you say that?” His tone was soft, consoling, and ill-fitting with his usually obnoxious and loud voice.

“I d-don’t know h-how to talk,” Leigh mumbled, voice so low Sam had to strain to hear, hiding behind the wall of the hallway because her bedroom door was open and he really wanted to hear this.

“You’re talking just fine right now,” Gabriel pointed out helpfully.

“That’s d-different.”

“How?”

“You’re m-my fr-friend,” Leigh replied after a moment of thinking. “I can t-talk to my f-friends…but I d-don’t know wh-what to say t-to other kids. Th-they make f-fun of me.”

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wall he was hiding behind, feeling so numb and tired from hearing his daughter’s voice so small and vulnerable. He was expecting Gabriel to take the traditional route of reassurances that ‘they’re just jealous, you’re better than they are’, but that’s not the direction Gabriel took.

“That actually sounds pretty familiar,” he mused. “It reminds me of this boy that went to school with me. Do you know what a prep school is?” Sam figured that Leigh had shaken her head, because Gabriel went on to explain by saying, “Prep school is a fancy private school where only the richest kids go. Only people with a lot of money put their kids there, and my parents had a lot of money, so they put me in that school. And when a bunch of rich kids are put together in one place, it usually never goes well, because rich kids are pretty much all snobs and they all think they’re better than everyone else.”

“But y-you’re not a s-snob, Mr. G-Gabriel.”

There was a low chuckle from Gabriel. “Well, thanks. But I used to be, back when I was in school. I used to think I was the greatest thing since chocolate, and I acted like it. I used to pick on all the ‘weird kids’, because I thought I was better than them, kind of like the kids at your school pick on you. No, no, hey now, don’t give me that dirty look. I’m a better person now, I promise. I learned my lesson. You wanna know how?”

Leigh’s voice sounded wary when she replied. “How?”

“Well, the boy I was telling you about, he was a few years younger than me. When he started school, he was shy and awkward. Everyone thought he’d grow out of it, but he just got weirder and weirder as he got older.” Gabriel chuckled fondly and Sam had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly who he was talking about. “All my friends teased him and made fun of him, called him names. He never had many friends and it was because my friends made everyone think he was some kind of freak, and that really bugged me. It made me angry because I didn’t want anyone talking that way about him.” Gabriel paused. “That boy that everyone made fun of was my little brother, Castiel, and I didn’t like anyone making fun of him. Only _I_ can do that.”

Leigh gasped. “But Mr. Cas isn’t a-a fr-freak!” Her voice was so indignant, so furious, Sam had the sudden image of her demanding Gabriel to give her a list of every person who had ever said anything bad about Castiel so she could personally hunt them down and make them pay and it made him chuckle softly.

“Of course he is!” Gabriel countered. “Castiel is _weird._ Especially when he gives you that _look_. You know the one I mean. The one with the really big confused eyes.” Sam knew exactly the look Gabriel was talking about- the creepy, head-tilted, soul-deep stare. By the sound of Leigh’s giggle, Gabriel was probably imitating it exaggeratedly.

“But that’s not a bad thing, because Castiel is probably the greatest person ever. It’s okay if you’re weird. It makes you special, just like Cas. As long as you’re a good person and you’ve got people that love you, you’ll be fine.”

There was a pause in the conversation and Sam figured now would be the best time to make his entrance. As soon as he moved, however, Leigh spoke again.

“Do you l-love me, Mr. G-Gabriel?”

Sam paused dead in his tracks and listened even more intently than before. If he were a single man with no responsibilities other than himself and his job, and some kid he’s known for only a few months asks him if he loves her, he wouldn’t know how to react.

Gabriel apparently was having that conflict right that minute, because there was a long silence before he answered. “Of course I do, sweetheart. Now why don’t you get some rest? I’m sure your dad will be home soon and he’ll be crazy to see you.”

Sam didn’t know how to feel about Gabriel’s answer, so when Gabriel came out a minute later and caught sight of him leaning against the wall, he didn’t look too happy.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you eavesdropping is rude?” Gabriel asked him dryly after a moment of staring.

“My mom died when I was a baby,” Sam replied, equally as dry.

Gabriel pursed his lips and shrugged lightly. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“She’s attached to you,” Sam said, without preamble, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “She really loves you. You _and_ Cas. That doesn’t happen often. Hell, that doesn’t happen at all.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Why do I suddenly feel like the teenage boyfriend getting the ‘if you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you’ speech?”

Sam huffed. The situation felt silly- Sam warning a man who was at least six years older than him about hurting his five year old daughter- but Leigh had already lost her mother and she had no grandparents. Her family was limited to Sam, Dean, and occasionally Bobby, and she had no friends.

“You’re a grown man, Gabriel,” Sam said quietly. “Hell, you’re older than me. You have your life, your career. We moved in a barely three months ago. We’re practically strangers to you, but Leigh is attached and I don’t think she’s letting go any time soon. I’m just saying-”

“Look, man,” Gabriel cut in. “I may be a complete douchebag on the best of days, but I’m not the kind of douchebag that breaks little girls’ hearts. Especially not little girls as precious as that one.” He swallowed and his eyes flitted away before meeting Sam’s again. “I don’t have much experience with kids and I’m not exactly what anyone thinks of when they think ‘father material’, but I know how to treat a little girl. And I wasn’t lying when I said that I cared about her-”

“You said you loved her,” Sam corrected.

“She’s five, you think she knows or cares about the difference?” Gabriel retorted defensively. “The point is, I’m not gonna tell her Santa Claus isn’t real then punch her in the face and run away laughing. So you can quit your worrying, all right?”

Sam scratched the back of his neck, smiling softly to himself. “Yeah, all right. Sorry for going all Papa Bear on you.”

“At least you’re being a good dad,” Gabriel shrugged, as if it were nothing, but Sam thought that was probably the best compliment he had ever received.

“Thanks. And thanks for taking care of Leigh, too,” he added hastily. “I really do owe you.”

“Not that big a deal. See you tomorrow?”

Gabriel shot him a warm smile before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Sam sighed and picked up his briefcase, hoping to get as much work done as possible before Leigh woke up from her nap. He had a long night ahead of him.

***

**Tuesday**

There was a spare key to Sam’s apartment over the doorjamb, which was how Dean used to get into Sam’s apartment before he finally stopped being a lazy fuck and went and made himself a copy. This was how Gabriel had gotten into Sam’s apartment yesterday (after jumping to reach it, because the door was pretty tall and even though a long time ago, some ancient Winchester ancestor had fallen into a vat of toxic waste or gotten it on with some Amazon warrior and since then, all his descendants were freakishly tall, Gabriel was a human of the normal, non-giant variety, thank you very much).

Unfortunately, Gabriel had absentmindedly pocketed it and taken it with him and didn’t realize until that morning when he was searching for his wallet and it fell out of his pockets. He’d been too busy cooking to give it to Sam when they came in for breakfast, but he decided to just take it over after closing time. It’s not like it was too out of his way or anything.

Which is how Gabriel found himself frozen at the door, Dean’s voice angry and loud on the other side.

“Dammit, Sammy! If this is about the money, I can help you pay for it, but we have to do _something-_ ”

“What we need to _do_ ,” Sam interrupted, sounding angrier than Gabriel had ever heard, “is stop this fucking conversation before Leigh hears us.”

“Screw you, Sam,” Dean spat out. “You’re so intent on making sure Leigh feels like a _normal kid_ that you’re completely ignoring the fact that she’s _not_ and she needs certain things. Obviously, school is something she _doesn’t need_ and if you’re too goddamn stubborn to see that-”

“What, Dean?” Sam growled out, sounding more dangerous than a rabid pitbull, but as aggressive as a cold-blooded snake, which sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine. Sam may be one of the sweetest and funniest guys he’d ever met, but he had a short fuse, and looked like the kind of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to rip you to shreds if you crossed him. And with those big muscles, he was pretty capable of it too. He was almost as scary as Castiel when pissed. Almost.

“What if I’m too stubborn to see it? What are you gonna do about it? Take her away from me? You can’t _do_ anything, Dean. She’s _my_ daughter!”

There was a heavy silence that had Gabriel going over a list of every single method of killing a person that wouldn’t make a single sound, wondering if Sam or Dean had done any of them. Or maybe one of them had punched the other, but Gabriel was pretty sure that would have made a sound he could hear. Maybe he should interrupt before things got ugly…

“Fuck this.” Dean’s voice was dead, numb, as if he was so angry that his emotions had short-circuited. “Do what you want. Leave your daughter to suffer.”

There was a succession of heavy boots falling on the floor quickly, one after the other, and then the door was opening in front of Gabriel and he had a sudden face-full of seething, growling Dean Winchester.

Dean looked surprised to see him there for a second, but it was quickly replaced by apathetic aggression. “Move,” Dean muttered roughly.

Gabriel took a step aside and gestured grandly, motioning for Dean to continue on his way. With one last glare, Dean stomped away down the hall to the elevator.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you eavesdropping is rude?” came Sam’s voice, tired and miserable, from inside the apartment.

“I was raised by nannies that didn’t speak English,” Gabriel replies easily, stepping inside.

Sam grins softly, but there’s no humor to it. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Now’s not a good time, man. Did you need something?”

Gabriel shook his head and pulled the key out of his jacket pocket. “Just came by to drop this off. Took it by accident last night.”

Sam nodded and dropped heavily onto the couch, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. “Just leave it on the table, thanks.”

Gabriel set the key down and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You know, the last thing I wanted to end this day on was walking into the middle of a Winchester vs. Winchester Battle Royale.”

Sam snorts, but it’s dry and humorless. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly the highlight of my day either.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I hate fighting with him and I know he’s just doing what he thinks is right, but he can be _such_ an asshole sometimes and I just…” He made an angry, frustrated grunting sound.

 “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gabriel chuckled. “I can get like that sometimes. At least I can admit I’m an insufferable dick.”

“It’s just an asshole big brother thing, I guess,” Sam commented, lips quirked.

Gabriel snorted. “Can I ask what Dean was being an asshole about? This time, at least,” he added. “Other than his usual, daily asshole-ness.”

There was a hint of a smile, but it didn’t last long and Sam ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Dean thinks I should pull Leigh out of school. Get her a private tutor instead.”

“And you don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gabriel stated, moving to lean up against a wall, facing Sam.

Sam sighed. “I don’t know…maybe he’s right…but it’s only been two weeks, you know? I just think she needs to get used to it. It’s all so new and weird and scary…but school always is, right? For everyone, not just…special kids.”

Gabriel stared at him appraisingly for a while, just taking him in, running the whole situation over in his head. “You remember when you told Cas and I about Leigh’s autism?” he said. “Back when we first met, and you told us about those parents that want so badly for their kids to be ‘normal’ that they completely ignore their special needs?”

Sam’s eyes widened, looking horrified. “Oh, God, I haven’t become one of those pricks, have I?”

Chuckling, Gabriel shook his head. “Absolutely not, but I’m pretty sure Dean just called you that right now.” Sam’s face fell and he propped his chin on his palm, rubbing his fingertips over his lips anxiously, and while the sight was an appealing one, it made him look like a lost puppy, so Gabriel continued. “I’d like to disagree. I think you’re doing _exactly_ what Leigh needs.”

Sam perked up, eyebrows flying to his hair. “Really?”

“Sure. I mean, you’re not going to be around forever, and at some point in her life, she’s going to have to take care of herself. She needs to learn to be around people for that, doesn’t she? And if she keeps being secluded, isolated from other people and other kids her own age just because she doesn’t know what to do around them, she’s never going to learn. And when she gets out to the real world, out of her big, strong daddy’s arms, she’s going to be totally fucking screwed.” Gabriel scratched his chin. “It’s tough love, sure, but that’s your job as her dad, right? I wouldn’t know personally.” He shrugged. “Like I said, non-English-speaking nannies.”

Sam smiled at him, stretching out on the couch. “That actually makes me feel a lot better,” he admitted. “You know, for a self-proclaimed dick, you’re actually not such a bad guy.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Gabriel warned, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Or I won’t give you anymore cookies.”

And with a threat like that, how could Sam not agree?

***

**OCTOBER**

**Friday**

The last thing Sam had been expecting to see as he and Leigh left the apartment was Gabriel leaving the shop, jacket donned, locking the door that was now sporting their usual ‘Get lost! We’re closed!’ sign.

“Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh called out and Gabriel spun around and smiled when he spotted them. He waved happily and checked for oncoming traffic before rushing across the street to join them.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted cheerily. “You going out?”

“Daddy’s t-taking me to g-get my Ha-Halloween c-costume,” Leigh announced. “You wanna come?”

Gabriel beamed down at her and ruffled her hair. “I’d love to, kiddo.”

Sam and Leigh had opted to walk to the store instead of suffering through the Friday evening traffic, so Gabriel followed along beside them, hands in his pockets.

“Why’re you closing up so early on a Friday?” Sam asked, tightening his jacket around himself to fight off the chill.

“It was just me and I didn’t really feel like working by myself,” Gabriel shrugged. “Ed and Harry’s shifts ended twenty minutes ago and Cas took the night off because- get this,” he paused dramatically, a worrisome smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes “-he’s got a _date._ ”

Sam’s head whipped around to stare wide-eyed at Gabriel, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. “Cas _dates_?”

 “It’s news to me, too, buddy,” Gabriel chuckled. “I was making cupcakes when he told me. Burnt six of them and my jaw fell on the ones that managed to survive.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Oh my God…do you know where he went? That’s something I _need_ to see…”

“I wish I did,” Gabriel lamented, still smiling. “I guess we’ll just have to wait till tomorrow when I wring out every single little embarrassing detail out of him. That is, unless he has a sore throat and can’t speak at all.” He tosses a dirty wink over at Sam, who reaches over and swats his shoulder, looking pointedly down at the impressionable young child between them.

But Leigh’s completely oblivious to Gabriel’s innuendos, too focused on hopping over cracks in the sidewalk. She did apparently pay enough attention to chirp in innocently, “I asked Uncle D-Dean to come w-with us today, b-but he said he h-had a date t-too.”

“You called Uncle Dean?” Sam asks her.

When she nods, Gabriel exchanges a look with Sam over her head. “And…he told you he had a date?” he asks her slowly.

Leigh nods again.

“Tonight?”

“Yup.”

Sam and Gabriel look at each other for a moment.

“You don’t think…?” Sam mutters.

Gabriel scoffs, although he doesn’t look too sure. “No way. Cas isn’t that stupid.”

Sam cocked his head in agreement. “Right. Cas is smarter than that.”

Neither of them are convinced and they both know it.

***

They spend an entire hour in the costume shop, Leigh infuriatingly indecisive and Gabriel completely unhelpful.

“What about the princess costume?” Sam suggested, holding it up for Leigh, who wrinkled her nose and turned away. Sam put it back on the rack with a sigh.

“Hey, Sammich, what about this one for you?” Gabriel called from the other side of the store, holding up a pair of shimmery gold hotpants. “Rocky from Rocky Horror!”

Making sure that Leigh wasn’t looking, Sam flipped Gabriel the bird. Gabriel just laughed as he replaced the pants.

Looking around the shop, Sam caught sight of a sparkly gold halo diadem and smirked. He pulled it off the wall and snuck up behind Gabriel, shoving it onto his head as he examined a rack of leotards.

“I think it suits you, _Gabriel,_ ” Sam laughed.

Gabriel spotted a mirror nearby and craned his head to look at himself. When he saw exactly what was on his head, he deadpanned, then turned his very unimpressed look on Sam.

“Haha, very clever. Put a halo on the dude with an archangel name.” He rolled his eyes and plucked it off. “Never gotten that one before.”

Sam smiled as he replaced the halo on the wall. “Isn’t ‘Castiel’ an angel name too?” he asked curiously. “Is your family uber religious or something?”

“Absolutely,” Gabriel replied bitterly.

Sam, confused by his sudden change in tone, turned a frown on him, but Gabriel’s back was to him.

“Kind of the reason Cas and I are no longer welcome at the family reunions,” Gabriel said, voice dark.

Sam felt heat rising to his cheeks. “Oh, crap, Gabe, I’m sorry…I didn’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gabriel shrugged, flashing him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re completely alone. Got a cousin, Anna. We spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with her…but now that she’s married I think she’ll be spending them with her husband’s family,” he added, almost to himself.

“You can spend them with us,” Sam blurted out, unthinking. “I…uh…” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and Gabriel just quirked an eyebrow at him. “It’s not much. Just some turkey sandwiches at our Uncle Bobby’s house for Thanksgiving and I guess Dean’s gonna stay overnight on Christmas and we’ll have some eggnog and watch the game…” Sam shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious and fighting the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Sounds nice,” Gabriel commented. “And if our theory’s correct and our brothers _are_ doing the dirty as we speak, then even more reason to celebrate the holidays together!”

Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Oh, dude…mental image I did not need…”

Gabriel chuckled as he went back to scanning the racks of costumes, outfits, and accessories and Sam joined him.

After a while of them searching in silence, Gabriel broke it with quiet words. “Our parents are stupidly rich,” he said and Sam looked at him only out of the corner of his eye. “But, cliché of all clichés, they were never home. Cas and I have three older brothers, Michael, Luke, and Raphael. And yes, Luke is short for Lucifer. You’d want to shorten that name if it were yours, wouldn’t you?”

“All archangels,” Sam commented.

“Yup.” Gabriel pulled out a sparkly tutu to examine it, wrinkled his nose at it, and put it back on the rack. “My parents were the biggest Bible thumpers imaginable. They always wanted four boys, to name them after the four archangels. Dear little Cas was an ‘oopsie’ and they had run out of archangels, so they named him after the Angel of Thursday, the day he was born.”

“You and Mr. C-Cas are named a-after angels?!” Leigh asked excitedly, popping out from between two racks.

Gabriel chuckled softly and smiled down at her. “We sure are, kiddo.”

“Cool!” She bounced off again, back on her search for the perfect Halloween costume.

After another heavy silence, Sam mustered up enough courage to ask, “So all that about the prep school you told Leigh…?”

Gabriel’s lips quirked into a twisted, wry grin. “Yeah. ‘S all true. Like I said, they’re stupidly rich and stupidly religious. When I announced that I liked dick just as much as pussy, my parents flipped out. Castiel stood up for me, told everyone that he also liked dick, and our parents decided enough was enough. They gave us our trust funds early, just as long as we promised to never show our faces around them again.”

Sam’s mouth went dry, hand clenched in the tacky fabric of some kind of stripper vampire cape or something, staring blankly at Gabriel, who was resolutely not meeting his eyes.

“Gabe…”

“Daddy!” Leigh cried happily, running up to him and cutting off his sentence. She had a bundle of white fabric in her arms and the halo Sam had put on Gabriel earlier askew on her head, too big for her and slipping slightly over her eyes. “I know wh-what I’m g-gonna dr-dress up as!”

“What’s that, sweetie?”

“An angel!” she declared. “Just l-like Mr. G-Gabriel and Mr. C-Cas!”

Sam turned to look at Gabriel, who looked completely taken aback, hand frozen midway as it reached for another costume. “What do you think, Gabe?” he grinned.

Gabriel opened and closed his mouth, swallowed, and smiled, surprise quickly replaced by affection. “What kind of angel doesn’t have wings? Come on, let’s find her some wings, so she can be a proper angel.”

***

**Saturday**

Sam woke up to a text from Gabriel that read: **They totally fucked.**

It really wasn’t the best thing to wake up to on a Saturday morning, but Gabriel just replied with an emoticon penis when Sam told him so.

***

**Monday**

“Mr. Cas is U-Uncle C-Cas now,” Leigh announced as they walked across the street to their apartment. Sam had had to stay overtime again, and Dean had left Leigh with Gabriel and Castiel until he got out of work.

Sam furrowed his brows at her. “Why do you say that?”

“Because they k-kissed,” Leigh explained matter-of-factly. “And o-only m-married people kiss. S-So Uncle D-Dean and Mr. C-Cas are now ma-married, so Mr. Cas is n-now my uncle t-too.”

Sam snorted. “And what does _Uncle_ Cas say about that?”

“He l-laughed and l-looked really h-happy when I t-told him, but also k-kinda su-surprised,” Leigh said, looking very proud and satisfied with herself.

“And Uncle Dean?”

Leigh frowned slightly in confusion. “He t-turned kinda r-red and left r-really quick. Mr. Gabriel l-laughed at him.”

Sam pressed his lips together to keep from laughing and made a mental note to tease Dean relentlessly about this later on when he had the chance.

As they climbed the steps, Sam was thinking up of all the ridiculous names he could call Dean and all the things he could say to make him squirm and turn a violent shade of red when Leigh piped up, “Hey, Daddy?”

“Yeah, sweetie?” he mumbled, distracted by his brainstorming.

“When a-are you and M-Mr. G-Gabriel g-gonna g-get married? I want h-him to be part of th-the family t-too.”

Sam stumbled and had to catch himself before he landed face-first on the stairwell and knocked his teeth out.


	3. Part 3

**JANUARY**

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to do _anything_ for your birthday,” Castiel was grumbling, glaring down at the dirt he was sweeping up. Dean was trailing along behind him, carrying a black trash bag where Castiel would dump all the accumulated filth as they worked. “I’m not saying a big party, obviously. But you won’t even allow us to make you a cake or even a _pie._ I just don’t get it.”

Dean sighed. “Cas, just let it go, all right? I just don’t wanna celebrate.”

Sam, crouching behind the counter and looting Gabriel’s stash of booze, smiled wryly to himself. “Just tell him, Dean,” he called out. “He should know.”

When he surfaced up from behind the counter, they had both stopped dead and Castiel was staring straight at him while Dean was refusing to meet his eye.

“Dean and Jess share a birthday,” Sam explained softly. “Back when she was alive, we’d celebrate them together. Just the three of us.”

Castiel looked stricken. Dean raised his eyes to look at Sam finally, and Sam turned away again.

Sometimes Sam forgot, selfishly, that Jess’ death had affected more than just him. He remembered taking Jess and Dean out to dinner, or the three of them getting tipsy from wine in the apartment he and Jess lived in before they got married and moved. He remembered Jess and Dean laughing together, Dean’s arm around Jess’ shoulders and Jess leaning in against his side, the two of them teaming up to tease and make fun of Sam.

Sometimes Sam forgot that he hadn’t just lost a wife and Leigh hadn’t just lost her mom. Sometimes he forgot that Dean had also lost a friend, that Dean hadn’t celebrated his own birthday the last two years because the memory hurt him too much.

“Oh,” Castiel said quietly, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry…”

Dean shrugged, but his expression was melancholic. “It’s cool. Just don’t wanna do anything.” He gave Castiel a small, reassuring smile, and the other man returned it.

“It’s _Leigh’s_ birthday that I’m worried about,” Sam cut in, hoping to change the subject into something easier.

“Leigh’s birthday is coming up?” Castiel asked.

“A week before mine,” Dean said, taking the bag over to the trash can and stuffing it in. “And Sam still has no idea what to do or what to get her.”

“Maybe I should get her one of those Easy Bake ovens,” Sam mused. “She’s all in love with the idea of baking.”

“That’s stupid,” Gabriel commented, coming in from the kitchen and catching Sam’s last statement. “Compared to my ovens, a little doll oven would be an insult to her.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And how familiar is she with your ovens, Gabriel?” he asked, a hint of accusation in his tone.

“I’m not an idiot, Sam. I don’t let her mess with the ovens. I just explain everything to her.” He shrugged. “If she wanted to, she could take those things apart and put ‘em back together in ten minutes. Not to mention bake a mean soufflé.”

Dean laughed. “She could do that with a car engine, too. That little brat is the most attentive student I’ve ever met.”

Sam’s lips quirked. “So, from what I understand, my daughter is interested in everyone else’s profession…except mine. Good to know.”

“You’re a lawyer, Sammich,” Gabriel said sympathetically, patting Sam’s shoulder. “Can you blame her?”

Everyone laughed, including Sam, and moved to their table, Sam and Gabriel carrying over the bottles of liquor. Leigh was in the kitchen, asleep in a little cot Gabriel kept in there. Sam had asked him why and he’d said that sometimes he was too drunk to go home, so he just crashed there. Since Sam didn’t have anyone to babysit now that Dean took part in their Friday night get-togethers, she would sleep there and Sam would carry her home and put her to bed.

“So what _are_ you gonna do for Leigh’s birthday, Sammy?” Dean asked, kicking his feet up and propping them up on Castiel’s lap, taking a sip of his drink. Castiel only rolled his eyes fondly and turned to look at Sam, waiting for his answer.

“I’m making the cake!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Don’t you dare buy some crappy cake from some fancy, pretentious bakery,” he warned, pointing a threatening finger at Sam.

“Why the hell would I do that? Those cakes are expensive as hell. Yours are free,” he added, grinning.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re lucky your daughter’s adorable, you know.”

“Or maybe he’s lucky you’ve got such a hard on for him,” Dean said, winking at Gabriel.

Sam spluttered into his drink, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong way, burning. Gabriel tapped him on the back, grinning impishly at Dean.

“You’ve probably got a point there, Dean-o. Wanna hear all the things I’d do to your little bro if I could?”

As uncomfortable as Sam felt, he couldn’t resist the bark of laughter as he watched the color drain out of Dean’s face, cheeks tinting a slightly greenish color.

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?” Dean grumbled, taking another sip of his drink and shooting Gabriel a glare.

“It’s been said,” Gabriel replied easily. “You’re just lucky my brother has such a hard on for _you_ , or else I would’ve stopped letting you in the shop a long time ago.”

***

**Saturday, January 18**

_Just Desserts_ had closed early, at 5 pm, so Castiel could get the decorations out and Gabriel could focus on putting the finishing touches on the cake. Sam, Dean, and Leigh arrived at 7 pm.

Leigh was on Sam’s shoulders, squealing and chattering about all the cool animals she had seen at the zoo. Once Sam set her down, she ran to Cas babbling, telling him all about how penguins were now her favorite animals _ever_ and that she wanted to be a penguin when she grew up, sitting on Cas’ lap and flapping her hands to demonstrate exactly how enthusiastic she was about the flightless birds. Dean took over Cas’ job of decorating.

Sam hadn’t invited many people, just their closest family, which was limited to Bobby, Ellen, and her daughter and secretary Jo. Sam had been concerned about inviting Leigh’s _therapist_ to her birthday party, but Ellen had known Bobby for years before that. She was family too, and Leigh adored her.

Once everyone had arrived and caught up, sharing stories and jokes, laughing and congratulating the birthday girl, Castiel got up and turned off most of the lights. Gabriel disappeared into the kitchen, dragging Jo with him, and when they came out, they were carrying an enormous cake between them. It was shaped like a giant butterfly, covered in white frosting and decorated with a tie-dye design of Leigh’s favorite colors- thick swirls of yellow and green, with hints of pink and a navy blue dominating the design, one lit candle on either wing. In thick, black gel, Gabriel had written in the beautiful writing of someone very practiced ‘Happy Birthday Leigh and Dean!’

“C-Come on, Uncle D-Dean!” Leigh said pulling Dean down onto a chair and sitting on his lap. “This c-cake’s for you t-too!”

Everyone laughed at Dean’s dumbstruck expression and when Jo and Gabriel set the cake down on the table in front of them, Dean shot the baker an accusing glare.

“Don’t look at me,” Gabriel laughed. “It was the brat’s idea.”

Once Leigh’s toothy grin broke through Dean’s impenetrable glare, melting it into a fond smile, everyone broke out into a chorus, singing to them both. At the end of the song, Dean and Leigh each blew out a candle and everyone clapped. Castiel went behind the counter to pull out plastic plates and utensils while Gabriel started slicing the cake.

He gave two big pieces to Leigh and Dean and then handed out to everyone else. Leigh ran her finger through the frosting, scooping up most of the blue icing and holding it up. “Look, U-Uncle Cas!” she called. “It’s b-blue like you!”

Castiel’s eyes crinkled with a smile as Leigh licked her finger clean, then proceeded to devour her cake with the plastic fork.

“There she goes again,” Ellen smiled, rolling her eyes and smiling fondly. “She’s been going on like that for the past few weeks,” she told Cas, leaning in so only he and Sam, standing next to him, could hear her. “It’s all, ‘Blue this, Uncle Cas that’. Congrats, Novak.” She took a big bite of the cake, completely ignoring the look of pleased befuddlement on Castiel’s face.

“Your brother’s got one too, if you didn’t know already,” she added around her mouthful of cake, leaning towards Castiel and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I may be breaking my doctor-patient privilege here telling you this, but I don’t think Sam minds, do ya, boy?”

“Leigh associates a sense with Gabriel?” Sam asked eagerly instead of answering her question. “What is it?”

“What do you think?” Ellen replied with a smirk. “Chocolate.”

Sam grinned. He should have guessed.

“Wait a second,” Castiel said, frowning. “Leigh’s mother has scent, Dean has touch, I have sight, and Gabriel has taste. That just leaves sound for you, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “Bobby’s got sound. We spend a lot of time over at Bobby’s salvage yard and he usually works on old trucks, so his is the sound of a truck backfiring. It fits him, strangely enough,” he added, smiling a bit and taking another bite of his cake.

“So what’s yours then?” Ellen asked. “She still won’t tell me.”

Sam shrugged. “Ask Gabriel. He’s made it his life’s purpose to figure it out. I don’t think he knows yet though.”

“Present time!” Gabriel announced loudly, cutting their conversation short. “I go first because there is no possible way any of you amateurs can hope to compete with mine. Be right back.” He dashed off into the kitchen, grinning mischievously the whole way.

“I’d be worried if I were you, Sam,” Ellen muttered, eying the kitchen doors warily.

Castiel chuckled into his cake and they both turned to look at him.

“You know what your lunatic brother got Leigh, Novak?” Ellen asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel made a noncommittal noise, which Ellen and Sam took for confirmation. “You’ll see in a second.”

When Gabriel came out again, he was carrying a plain shoebox with holes cut out on the sides.

“Happy birthday, squirt,” he said, placing the box on Leigh’s lap.

Eyes wide and bottom lip between her teeth, Leigh lifted the lid off the box. Once she saw what was inside, she let out an awed gasp. Sam leaned forward to look and barely managed to stifle a groan.

“A kitty!” Leigh squealed. She reached in to get the tiny ball of fur, but Jo rushed forward to grab her hands.

“Woah, woah. Careful there, kiddo.” Leigh looked up at her and Jo smiled down at her. “Baby cats can get very scared when they meet strangers, and when they get scared, they scratch. You gotta be gentle. Here, let me help.”

Sam watched as Jo carefully lifted the little cat out of the box and cradled it close to her chest, stroking it. The kitten pawed at her, mewling softly.

“Aw, she’s a sweetheart, Gabe,” Jo commented, beaming up at the baker. “Nice choice.”

“What can I say?” Gabriel shrugged. “I’m an excellent judge of character.”

Everyone watched as Jo slowly handed the cat over to Leigh, who cradled it like Jo had been doing, stroking her soft fur. It was a regular kitten, gray fur and black stripes, with fluffy white along its stomach and throat. Its tail curled over Leigh’s wrist as it sniffed and pawed gently at her, assessing her as a worthy owner.

Sam took the opportunity to sidle up next to Gabriel. “You didn’t even think to ask me about this?” he hissed through his teeth.

“Why?” Gabriel replied, smirking over his shoulder at Sam. “It’s not _your_ birthday or your present.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Leigh is five- er, _six_ \- years old. You do realize who’s _really_ going to be taking care of that cat, right?”

“You?”

“No, _you._ ”

Gabriel laughed. “Oh, come on, Sammich. Loosen up. She loves the thing. Look at her.”

Sam looked up and saw Leigh nuzzling the little kitten with her cheek, talking to it and telling it how well she was going to take care of it and how much she was going to love it. The cat seemed to love the attention, rolling around in Leigh’s arms and mewling excitedly, batting at Leigh’s curls like toys.

“Don’t worry, man,” Gabriel whispered back to Sam, making sure Leigh couldn’t overhear him. “I got you a litterbox and catnip and toys and food for a month. Even got you an instruction manual on owning your very first cat, ‘cause I know you get weird boners over instruction manuals.”

Sam regretted ever introducing Gabriel to Dean.

“ _And,_ ” Gabriel continued, “I checked the guidelines for your apartment. No pets over twenty pounds. So feed the cat right, and you don’t have a problem. If you have a twenty pound cat, then…there’s a few things wrong with you. Starting with the fact that you have a twenty pound cat.”

“I can’t believe you just did this without even-” Sam started arguing weakly, but Leigh suddenly gasped and his head shot up, thinking the cat had scratched her or bitten her or something.

But Leigh was fine. She had that far away, dazed expression she sometimes got when something wasn’t quite right, but she was smiling.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, and Sam thought she was calling him so he moved forward to go to her, but Gabriel stopped him, looking confusedly at Leigh.

Leigh giggled and nuzzled the cat again, hugging it close to her. “She’s l-like Daddy,” she said to herself.

“Looks like there’s somethin’ after all,” Ellen muttered, looking impressed.

Gabriel, enthusiastic about finally figuring it out, rushed forward and crouched next to Leigh’s chair.

“Leigh, sweetheart?” he started gently, cajoling. “What about the cat is like your daddy?”

“Hm?” Leigh turned to him, dazed and distracted, still petting her cat. “Not s-sure. She just re-reminds me of D-Daddy.” She giggled as the kitten’s whiskers tickled her jaw.

Turning away from Gabriel to give the cat her full attention again, she poked its tummy and said, “You need a n-name. Uncle Dean!” she called.

Dean turned away from his conversation with Bobby. “Yeah, pumpkin?”

“You name h-her!” she insisted. “She’s your pr-present too!”

Dean frowned, pursing his lips in thought. “What do _you_ think I’d name her?” he asked her.

Leigh turned away, fixing the cat with a scrutinizing look, little lips pressed together, her eyebrows knitted together. “I think y-you’d call her…Miss Ze-Zeppelin.”

Dean chuckled, winking at Leigh. “Then Miss Zeppelin it is.”

Sam stepped up to Gabriel, who was still crouching next to Leigh’s seat, hoping to grab her attention again, but Leigh was too absorbed in playing with Miss Zeppelin to notice him.

“Sorry, buddy,” Sam smiled, putting a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out some day.”

Gabriel straightened up, looking petulant. He glared down at the ball of fur in Leigh’s hands, as if trying to figure out what it could possibly have in common with an overgrown human nerd.

“Maybe it’s the fur!” he exclaimed, turning to face Sam. “It reminds her of your ridiculous floofy hair!” He reached up to bat at the ends of Sam’s long hair like Miss Zeppelin was doing to Leigh’s curls and Sam swatted his hand away as if it were an annoying fly.

“And what does that have to do with you baking bread?” Sam reminded him smugly. “There’s gotta be a connection between the two moments if it has something to do with me, don’t you think?”

Gabriel’s expression turned petulant again. “Crap.”

“Mr. Gabriel!” Leigh chastised.

As Gabriel dug into his pocket for a quarter, Sam could hear him grumbling, ‘I get her the fucking cat and now I have to pay her too. This kid’s gonna kill me, dammit.’

**FEBRUARY**

**Tuesday**

It was obvious Sam spent too much time around them, but just one peek out of the corner of his eye and Sam knew that Gabriel and Castiel were up to something. He pretended not to notice the way they whispered to each other, heads together, casting Sam furtive glances. It seemed like Gabriel wanted Castiel to do something, and Castiel was reluctant, which immediately set Sam at unease. Whatever Gabriel wanted that Castiel did not approve of could not bode well for anyone.

Sam sipped his coffee and pretended not to notice as Castiel rounded the corner of the counter, looking like he was cursing his brother in his head. He didn’t say anything to Sam, but instead crouched down next to Leigh’s chair and touched her shoulder to get her attention.

“Hi, Uncle Cas!” Leigh grinned and Sam noted how the new title still caught the man off guard.

“Hello, Leigh,” he replied, smiling easily. “If you aren’t too busy, I could really use your help with something.”

“I’m not b-busy!” Leigh told him cheerily. “What do you need h-help with?”

“I’m planning a surprise for Dean for Valentine’s Day,” he explained and Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. Castiel had never seemed to be the ‘grand romantic gesture’ type of guy. Dean certainly wasn’t. “I need the opinion of someone who knows him best.”

Leigh frowned. “But then why d-don’t you ask Daddy? He’s Uncle D-Dean’s brother. He knows him b-better.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed to Sam, who gave him a questioning frown in return. “I was hoping,” Castiel continued, looking straight at Leigh, “that I could get a more feminine point of view.”

“Oh!” Leigh’s expression brightened. “All right! Let’s go!” She hopped down from her chair, took Castiel’s hand and he shot Sam an apologetic look before leading her around the counter and into the kitchen.

Not two seconds after Castiel and Leigh slipped through the kitchen doors, Gabriel was plopping himself down in Leigh’s vacated chair. “Hey, man,” he greeted with a smile that was just too wide.

Sam sighed. “Gabriel, what’s this abou-”

“We need to talk, kiddo,” Gabriel cut in, and Sam could appreciate his refusal to beat around the bush and get straight to the point.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Sam joked, eyes wide in mock surprise.

Gabriel let out a scoffing noise. “Have you seen your ass? If I ever got my hands on that, I’d never let it go.” He winked and Sam found himself blushing. “But this is serious, man.” His expression was suddenly sober, and Sam frowned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked warily.

“Depends on your definition of okay,” Gabriel answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, and it’s not my place to talk about this-”

Sam barked out a laugh despite himself, cutting Gabriel off. He clapped a hand over his mouth and muttered, “Sorry.” He lowered his hand and grinned at Gabriel. “Dude, you’ve slept on my couch, you pick my daughter up from school once a week, we celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas together, and I spend more time around you than I do with my own brother. Pretty sure you’re my established ‘best friend’ already, as sad as that is,” he added with a teasing smirk. “Whatever you wanna say, you can.”

For a moment, Sam thought about taking back the part about being ‘best friends’ because he thought that a person should see all sides of another person before becoming ‘best friends’ and he’d never seen Gabriel blushing before this moment. But then Gabriel huffed out a laugh, looking slightly abashed.

“Well, all right,” he muttered and cleared his throat. “In that case, I’ll get right down to it. How long has it been since Jess?”

Sam sighed. He really should have seen it coming. Gabriel hadn’t asked about Jess since they first met back in June. “Let’s see,” he mumbled, thinking back. “Two and a half years,” he replied, eyes on the tabletop. “Give or take.”

Gabriel nodded solemnly. “I know it must be hard, man.”

“It’s fine,” Sam said quickly. He really didn’t need Gabriel’s pity. “I’ve accepted it and I’m moving on.” He wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not, and Gabriel didn’t seem so convinced either.

“Are you?” he asked seriously. “Moving on, I mean. Are you? Because…” He licked his lips, looking like he was bracing himself for something. “Leigh is worried about you.”

Sam felt his heart contract painfully. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, an anxious habit that Sam rarely saw. “Remember the first day we met? Leigh ran away and came here?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well…she came in, calling for her mom. I thought that maybe she’d gotten separated on the street or something, so I went to see if I could help her. You wanna know what she told me?” He didn’t wait for Sam to respond and continued, “’I’m looking for my mom because Daddy is lonely and I want to take her back to him.’”

Sam felt his throat close up and he pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. After a moment of Gabriel giving him his space, Sam cleared his throat and looked up at him again. “That was almost a year ago,” he said, voice low. “Why’re you bringing it up now?”

“Because she’s back up on the ‘Daddy is lonely’ train,” Gabriel explained, leaning his elbows on the tabletop. “When we’re back in the kitchen, all she does is talk about how you need someone in your life. I think it has something to do with Cas and Dean getting together; now she has this idea that it’s what you need too.”

Sam pushed his hair out of his face, scratched the back of his neck. “So…what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think it’s time you got back up on the horse, buddy.” He gave Sam a soft look. “I’m not saying look for something long-term or too serious. I’m not even saying that you’ll find someone. I’m just saying… _try._ Going around by yourself everywhere is kinda sad.”

“I’m not alone,” Sam protested. “I got you.” Gabriel looked a little surprised and Sam quickly added, “And Cas and Dean and Bobby. I’m not lonely, Gabe. I have friends and family and my kid. I’m good.” He almost believed it.

“I’m not your friend,” Gabriel said. “I only spend time with you because you’re my best customer and I wanna make sure you keep coming back.” Sam gave him an unimpressed glare and Gabriel shrugged, grinning.

Gabriel was silent for a while, tracing little swirls on the Formica surface with his fingertip. “All right,” he said at last, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms. “If you won’t do it for you, or even for Leigh, then do it for me, would ya?”

Sam frowned. “How would my dating someone be beneficial for you?”

Gabriel groaned. “Because maybe it’ll get Leigh off my back.” He rubbed his forehead. “I love the little brat, but ever since Cas and Dean got together, I think she’s gotten it into her head that it’s only a matter of time before you and I get together. She keeps asking me when we’re gonna get married, man! I’ve run out of things to tell her!”

Sam was glad he had decided to leave his coffee untouched for this conversation, or else he’d be choking on it from how hard he was laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Gabriel groused. “Just so you know, I’d be a _kickass_ husband. I’d bring you pancakes in bed _and_ I’ve got no gag reflex.”

Sam choked on his own spit. “All right, you’ve convinced me. Should I propose now, or would you rather wait till I get the ring?”

Gabriel upturned his nose. “Sorry, buddy. You lost your chance.”

Sam hazarded a sip of his coffee, lamenting into the rim, “Oh, no. Whatever shall I do now?”

“Go out and find someone else,” Gabriel suggested, expression serious again. “Granted, you’re not gonna find someone as awesome as me, but I’m sure you can settle.”

Sam rolled his eyes, setting the cup back down, turning it in his hand. “Gabe, I don’t know…”

“What’s the harm in trying, man?” Gabriel argued. “How about, this Friday, I take you out to this little club I know and you can mingle? You don’t even have to come out with a date, just get back in the mix, talk to people.”

Sam bit his lip, thinking. “You know,” he muttered softly, still twirling the cup in his hand. “Dean’s been telling me the same thing for a while now.” He laughed wryly. “I think now that he’s in the honeymoon phase with Cas, he just wants everyone to be as happy and in love with the world as he is.”

Gabriel deadpanned, looking at Sam with narrowed eyes. “That’s disgusting,” he commented dryly and Sam snorted in agreement.

“Soooo…” Gabriel urged and Sam glared lightly at him. “What do you say?”

Sam scratched the back of his head. Was he actually considering this? It might satisfy Leigh, and get both Gabriel and Dean to stop worrying about him. Why couldn’t they all just be like Castiel? Not pushing or meddling in his personal life, trusting him to take care of himself and make his own decisions. Or maybe Castiel was in on it too. After all, he had drawn Leigh away just so Gabriel could talk to him about this. Granted, Castiel had seemed pretty reluctant. Maybe he was against Dean and Gabriel sticking their noses into this. Sam sighed.

“So…Friday?” he asked and Gabriel’s expression lit up. “If you can get a babysitter, I’ll go.”

“Awesome!” Gabriel clapped his hands and that damn mischievous glint in his eye was back, making Sam feel uncomfortably like prey.

***

As it turns out, Gabriel found not one, but _two_ babysitters.

Leigh was on Castiel’s back, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, his arms hooked under her knees. Dean wolf-whistled as Sam stepped out of his bedroom, adjusting the cufflinks on his black button-down.

“Lookin’ sharp, Sammy,” Dean commented, giving him a wolfish grin.

“Is the princess finally done primping?” Gabriel’s voice came from the kitchen, closely followed by the man himself, holding a box of Trix cereal and munching. “Dude, your kitchen is pathetically stocked.”

“Cas and Dean?” Sam asked him, unimpressed and ignoring his jibe at the kitchen. “ _These_ are my babysitters?’

“Hey!” Dean protested. “We’re awesome babysitters! We’ve both taken care of Leigh before.”

Sam snorted and held his hands out for Leigh, who released her grip on Castiel to curl up against his chest, gripping the soft fabric of his shirt. “You have,” Sam conceded, stroking her hair. “Just never at the same time.” He gave them a meaningful look and they both understood what he meant when Dean’s gaze turned hard and Castiel’s cheeks colored slightly.

“You look really h-handsome, Daddy,” Leigh smiled at him, flicking the ends of his hair and poking his dimple when he grinned back at her.

“Why, thank you baby,” he said, kissing her temple. “Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning, all right?”

She kissed his cheek before he set her down and she squealed “Okay!” before running off to the bathroom.

Sam turned a stern look on Dean and Castiel once she was out of sight, both of them visibly shrinking from his gaze. Gabriel snorted behind his hand. “Rules,” he intoned. “No making out until after you’ve put her to bed and _made sure_ she’s asleep.”

“Sam-” Dean started interrupting, but Sam didn’t let him get far.

“Not in my bed, and if you get any stains on the couch, you’re buying me a new one.” He grinned at them both, Dean still glaring and Castiel still blushing.

With an easy grin, Sam squeezed Castiel’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to Dean’s hair, laughing when Dean jerked away irritably. “Have fun.” As Gabriel pushed him out the door, he called back, “If Leigh catches you two doing anything inappropriate, you’re paying for her therapy for the next month! And don’t forget to feed the cat!”

***

The club that Gabriel took him to, _The Elysian Fields_ , wasn’t as terrible as Sam had been expecting. In fact, it was really nice.

The acoustics were set up so that if you sat at one of the dozen small tables or at the bar, you wouldn’t have to shout to be heard over the music. But if you moved onto the dancefloor with the multicolored LED light tiles, the music overwhelmed you and you had to press your lips to your partner’s ear to be heard. And even then, they’d probably still have to guess from the shape your lips make against their skin because they didn’t hear you well.

The décor was modern and attractive, nothing too gaudy or ostentatious. The walls were white with splashes of colors in the form of abstract decorations. There was a small stone fountain, tucked into the far corner. The bar was a simple black counter with a dozen or so silver stools that vaguely resembled large ice cream scoops. The song currently playing was some anemic pop song with meaningless lyrics and a catchy tune that Sam had heard on the radio once or twice, but couldn’t tell you the artist or title.

Sam had been expecting tacky sports decoratives crowding the walls, bodies packed together like sardines, sharing sweat. A cheap wooden bar sticky with spilled beer and covered in crushed nuts, some old school mullet rock mixing with the stench of urine in the air.

Sam obviously spends too much time with Dean.

“Wow, Gabe,” Sam said, voice awed. “This place is-”

“It’s pretty great, ain’t it?” Gabriel finished, tone smug. “I’m friends with the owner.” He winked and grabbed Sam’s shoulder, leading him to the bar. “Let’s see if we can loosen you up a bit.”

Sam laughed as Gabriel ordered them two glasses of scotch. “Dude, I thought the whole purpose of this was to get me a date. If you get me drunk, I’m gonna make a fool of myself and no one’s gonna wanna go out with me.”

“Nonsense!” He handed Sam his glass. “A little bit of liver-killing love is all you need to get that gigantic stick out of your sweet ass.”

They clink glasses as Sam laughs and then raise them to their lips, but a pair of dark-skinned, red-nailed hands touch their wrists delicately and they both pull away to look at who they belong to. Sam sees probably one of the most beautiful women he’s ever met.

“Your friend is right, Gabriel,” she drawls, her voice smooth and silky, rolling down Sam’s spine. “Scotch is not appropriate.” She takes their glasses carefully from their hands and sets them back down at the bar, where the bartender collects them immediately. “Scotch is for balding, middle-aged men who have just lost their jobs and wish to drown their sorrows at some two-star, no name bar.”

Sam is completely lost, but too dazed by the woman’s beauty and grace to really feel the confusion.

Gabriel, however, isn’t as easily distracted. He grins brightly and wraps his arms around the woman’s slender waist, hugging her, and Sam finally notices the woman’s dress- a blood red, ankle-length halter neck that hugs her curves beautifully and looks like it’s made out of woven clouds. Sam wants to reach out and touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks, but refrains.

“Kali, love!” Gabriel exclaims happily, pulling away from her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I’m the owner, dear,” Kali explains, as if Gabriel is being slow on purpose. “I know when _anyone_ is here.”

“Right, right, of course.” He grins at her and then gestures at Sam. “This is my friend, Sam Winchester. The one I told you about.”

Sam barely has time to think ‘Gabriel talks about me?’ before Kali is turning that dark, heavy-lidded gaze on him. “Sam Winchester,” she purrs, holding out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Kali Masterson.”

Sam takes her hand, soft and delicate, and shakes it carefully. He’s half-tempted to kiss the back of it like some old school British gentleman, because Kali gives off an air of high-class royalty, but not in a snobby way.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Sam manages, because he’s not a complete loser that can’t speak to a woman who is clearly way out of his league.

“Now, as I understand from what I just heard of your conversation-”

“Eavesdropping, were you?” Gabriel teases, eyes twinkling.

“Shamelessly,” she replies, smiling easily at him and he chuckles. “From what I understood, you are looking for a date?”

Sam blushed slightly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered, laughing in a self-depreciating manner. “It’s just been a while since I dated and Gabriel thought I should try to start again.”

“Word of wisdom, love,” she says, leaning in slightly, a twinkle in her eye to match Gabriel’s. “Don’t always take Gabriel’s advice.”

Gabriel lets out a wounded hiss. “Oooh, Kali, dear. Why would you say that? That hurts.” He’s grinning from ear to ear.

Kali ignores him. “However, he was right to bring you here. I’m sure a handsome young man such as you will have no trouble finding a charming lady here. Or man, whichever suits you.” She turns to the bartender. “Three of the house specials, Roy.”

“Right away, ma’am,” the bulky bartender in the too-tight black T-shirt mutters hurriedly, rushing to make the drinks.

“I hope you won’t mind me stealing Gabriel from you,” Kali says, turning back to Sam, “because, if I remember correctly, he owes me a dance.”

Gabriel’s smile is eternally in place. “So I do. I’m sure Sam won’t mind.”

Sam shrugs, smirking. “Not at all. I didn’t come here to flirt with _him,_ after all.”

“Smart choice,” she replies snarkily, taking the drinks from Roy as he places them on the bar.

“If you’re just going to insult me all night,” Gabriel says, taking his drink, “I’m going to leave.”

“Not without my dance, you’re not.”

They clink glasses and sip, the taste of something bittersweet, like a ripe apple, exploding on his tongue and sliding down his throat smoothly. Whatever it was, he liked it.

Before Kali takes Gabriel’s hand to lead him to the dancefloor, she turns to Roy and lets him know that ‘Anything this boy orders is completely on the house. Don’t take any money he may offer you’. Sam protests, but it falls on deaf (by choice) ears as the pair head to the dancefloor, Gabriel tossing Sam a wink before winding an arm around Kali’s waist. Sam wondered idly if there was more to them than just close friends. The thought left a bad taste in Sam’s mouth, but he just downed more of the apple-y ‘house special’ and ignored it.

It took a surprisingly short time for Sam to find someone. Actually, the guy found him.

Sam was sitting at the bar, surveying the other patrons with a fleeting eye, taking account of how many were in pairs or groups, how many were prowling the dance floor like sharks, how many looked bored and miserable. Trying to find someone to hold his attention.

Just as he finishes his drink and grabs Gabriel’s abandoned one, now slightly warm because he and Kali have been dancing for almost ten whole minutes, a lithe body sidles up next to him and mutters a low and sultry, “Hey.”

Sam turns to look at him, smiling, but he knows that tone, knows that look, and knows that he wants nothing to do with it. He has short-cropped obviously dyed blonde hair and pale blue eyes, with a pouty mouth, and Sam figures he’ll give him a chance.

“Name’s Justin,” the guy says, holding his hand out. Sam takes it, because he has manners.

“Sam,” he replies and tries not to overanalyze how Justin’s hand lingers in his too long, brushes his fingers across his palm.

“You were lookin’ kinda lonely,” Justin smiles, body at a respectful distance, but still leaning slightly towards Sam over the bar, making his intentions clear as daylight. Sam refrains from rolling his eyes and decides to hold with his plan of giving the guy a chance. Maybe he’s reading the signs all wrong.

And maybe Dean is a virgin.

“I _was_ kinda lonely,” Sam flirts. “Figured you’d keep me company?”

Justin laughs, not overly loud or obnoxious, but low and soft. “I’ve been told I’m great company.”

 _I bet you have._ “I’ll let you know if you live up to your reputation.” Sam winks, forcing himself to be nice and flirt. That’s why he’s here, after all. He takes a sip of his (Gabriel’s) drink, leaving Justin to open the conversation.  And Justin does. They talk about nothing in particular, tossing compliments and flirting between comments on the weather and the latest baseball game. Justin goes for the Yankees, and if that isn’t a point against him, Sam doesn’t know what is.

Maybe the way Justin is looking at him, eyes drinking in Sam’s forearms when he undoes the cuffs and pushes them up to his elbows, because Justin is exuding body heat and Sam is prone to sweat. Sam catches the look and thinks, yeah, that’s a point against him. Then Justin’s eyes flash up to his and he smiles so bright, and the guy’s got a great smile, adorably crooked, so Sam gives him back the point he just lost.

But then Justin eyed Sam’s crotch and licked his lips ostentatiously and Sam thought that that point should really stop being so fucking bipolar already. He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what is going through Justin’s head. The guy screams out ‘twink’ and Sam’s pretty sure he’s attracted to Sam’s size and bulk, hoping to get a nice, hard fuck out of tonight.

Sam isn’t here for that, he’s not interested in a one-night stand.

He’s just about to tell him so, when the song changes to something that Sam recognizes as Adam Lambert and it comes as shock to no one when Justin’s eyes light up with a smile and he grips Sam’s wrist, exclaiming, “I love this song! Dance with me?” It comes out more of a command than a request and Sam, stupidly, figures that one dance won’t hurt anyone.

Unfortunately for Sam, when Justin says ‘dance with me’ he really means ‘you just stand there and sway your hips and I’ll grind my ass into your crotch and grab your hands to press them into my hips’.

Sam catches Gabriel’s eye across the dancefloor over Kali’s shoulder, and Sam figures he must not look nearly as uncomfortable as he feels because Gabriel winks at him and nods in approval. Sam just looks away and prays to whatever deity is listening that he doesn’t look like he’s _enjoying_ this, because there’s no need to encourage Justin more. And it actually hurts a little, the way Justin is pushing back into him. When Justin turns around in Sam’s arms to press their chests together, hands going around Sam’s neck and crotch rubbing against his, Sam wondered if maybe Justin has a big, hulking caveman of a boyfriend that doesn’t pay enough attention to him somewhere, so he’s using Sam as a way to get the guy jealous enough to react. Sam wonders if Kali and Gabriel are close enough friends that Gabriel can convince her not to kick him out if a fight breaks out.

When Justin’s lips find Sam’s neck, Sam decided enough was enough and excused himself from the guy’s presence as politely as possible, praying that he wouldn’t follow him.

Sam reached the bar, ordered a beer as the song ended and changed. He tried to shove some money into Roy’s hand, but the guy backed away, telling him that Kali was too scary. Sam took pity on the guy and pocketed his money.

He ran a hand over his hair, expecting Gabriel to come back now since this was a slow song, but when he looked, his hands were around Kali’s waist, hers around his neck, and he was telling her something that was making her laugh. Feeling a little sick, Sam turned around and almost ran straight into a tiny brunette that was waiting for a drink.

“Shit, sorry,” he said automatically, holding his beer away instinctively so as not to spill any. She jumped slightly when he bumped into her, but she was smiling up at him.

“No worries, I’m fine.” The bartender hands her her glass and she takes it, thanking him, before taking a sip. “Saw you dancing with Justin,” she comments casually and Sam raises an eyebrow. She shrugs. “He’s a regular. Resident slut. He comes in, finds some poor, unsuspecting shmuck, charms him, takes him home and never sees him again.” She casts an eye over Sam. “And you are just his type. Big, sexy, and clearly desperate.”

Sam laughs into his beer. “I’m going to file away the ‘sexy’ comment for later and ask something more important: Do I really look desperate?”

“Nah,” she grins. “Just teasin’ ya. How’s your dick by the way?”

Sam chokes into his beer, coughing when it goes down the wrong way. “’Scuse me?” he manages.

She laughs, a clear, pretty sound. “Justin was grinding it pretty bad out there. You sure it’s still intact?”

Sam grins at that. “If I were a sleazy guy, I’d ask you to check it out for me.” He takes a sip of his beer. “But I don’t even know your name yet, and I’m not _that_ sleazy.”

The girl smiles and Sam is warmed by how big and pretty it is. “If I tell you, will you then feel it’s okay to ask me to examine your dick?”

Sam likes her. “No.”

“Ruby,” she replies, holding out her hand and it’s so tiny that Sam’s envelopes it completely.

“Sam.” He clears his throat, casts an eye over the dancefloor and is surprised to see that both Kali and Gabriel have their eyes on him, and Kali is whispering something in Gabriel’s ear. They’re talking about him, he realizes, and Gabriel is frowning, so he doesn’t think it’s anything good. He turns away from the sight because it isn’t settling well with him. “So, if you know Justin and his type that means you spend enough time around here to have seen him in action before.”

Ruby shrugs, taking a sip of what Sam recognizes as some kind of martini. “I come in every now and then. It’s a good place to meet new people, the drinks are amazing, and it’s not suffocating. It’s a nice place to unwind after a long week, ya know?”

Sam nods. _The Elysian Fields_ is certainly one of the nicest places he’s ever been to and he can see himself coming here with a group of friends to have fun, dance, and shoot the shit. If he had a group of friends.

They make idle conversation as the slow song fades and dies away, and Sam is pleased to note that Ruby keeps her eyes on his face the whole time. She doesn’t glance at the front of his jeans or his muscled forearms or even his lips. She keeps eye contact with him, laughing and teasing him playfully. They flirt and chat and Ruby’s in the middle of telling him of her love for French fries when the song changes to Eurhythmics’ ‘Sweet Dreams’ and she gasps in pleased surprise.

“I know you haven’t had a decent dancing experience here yet, but if you agree to dance this one with me, I promise not to crush your dick.” She beams hopefully at him, and she really is very pretty and sweet.

“Sure,” he agrees, smile widening when she giggles happily. “I love this song.”

Ruby keeps her promise, taking Sam’s hands and swaying with the beat. He lets her lead, because he’s not the most graceful dancer in the world, all long limbs and no coordination. They bounce slightly with the bass and Ruby sings along with the lyrics, twirling herself in Sam’s hands, smiling up at him. He smiles, pulls her close when she presses up against him, the sweet scent of her shampoo in his nose. Something like apricot.

She’s a good dancer. She knows how to press up against him just right and just long enough to not be uncomfortable like Justin had been, but to leave him hungry for more contact. She sends him teasing, sexy smirks over her shoulder when she turns around to press her back against his chest, the curve of her ass just brushing over his crotch. She’s not a terrible tease though, and Sam is grateful because he doesn’t find that attractive at all. Ruby crowds in close to him just enough for him to feel the heat of her body through her black dress, his hands feeling the deep curves of her waist.

Halfway through the song, he gains a little more confidence and moves closer to her, leading a little more, moving her this way and that as she sways, his hands firm and strong on her waist and she seems to appreciate it, smiling brightly at him with an unmistakable heat in her eyes.

Sam’s not going home with her tonight if she asks.

The song ends and the next starts, and they don’t stop dancing. They get through a few more songs, even one that required more jumping and hair swaying than actual dancing, and by the time they decided it was enough and moved off the dancefloor, Sam was sweating through his shirt, his hair plastered to his forehead. He hoped that Ruby wouldn’t mind too much, but when he took a good look at her, he noticed that her hair was a little wilder and less controlled than before and her own face was a little shinier. It was oddly endearing.

Sam led her to an empty table and pulled out her chair, then leaned down to tell her he was going to get them some drinks. Ruby smiled up at him and nodded, then began raking her fingers through her hair, trying to get it under control again.

At the bar, Sam ordered one house special for him and another martini for Ruby. As he waits, someone slides up to his side and bumps their arm to his to get his attention and Sam has a moment to pray it’s not Justin before he turns to find Gabriel, not looking as happy as Sam would have expected.

“I see you met Ruby,” he says and he doesn’t sound very pleased for the guy that brought Sam here to meet someone.

“Yeah, you know her?” Sam asks.

“Not personally, but Kali’s been telling me about her.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. She told me to warn you to watch your sweet ass, because that chick is trouble.” Gabriel looks genuinely concerned, but Sam doesn’t feel grateful for it, just irritated. That must have been what Kali had been whispering to him earlier.

“Oh, so Kali knows everything, does she?” It comes out a little sharper than intended and Gabriel looks surprised at the tone, but doesn’t comment on it.

“No,” he answers, voice growing an edge to it. “But she’s the owner and she knows her regulars, and she says that Ruby is bad news.”

Sam scoffs. “Whatever, man. She’s nice. And if Kali knows all her regulars like you say, why didn’t she tell you about Justin the Slut? Y’know, the guy mincing my balls earlier?”

Gabriel shrugs, takes a pull of his beer. “She didn’t see him as a threat.”

Roy hands Sam his drinks and Sam doesn’t bother trying to give him any money for them. “And _Ruby’s_ threatening?” he asks, voice patronizing. Gabriel shrugs again and Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. She’s nice. I think I’m gonna ask her out.” He doesn’t give Gabriel the chance to respond and heads over to his table, handing Ruby her drink.

The rest of the night goes by in a bit of a blur. Ruby is really easy to talk to and she makes him laugh. He’s pretty sure that Ruby enjoys his company as well, because she laughs along with him and barely ever stops smiling at him and she doesn’t take her attention away from him for a second. They sit and talk about music, movies, friends. At one point, they get into a rather odd discussion on aliens and UFOs because they start talking about alien movies and Ruby totally believes they’re real while Sam thinks it’s all bullshit. Sam hasn’t laughed this hard since before Jess died.

When he asks her out to dinner, she doesn’t hesitate at all before agreeing.

When they finally take a break from their conversation to check the time, it’s one in the morning and Sam winces. “Damn. Sorry, I have to go.”

She grips his wrist lightly, holding him in place but not restraining him. “Come on, Sam. It’s Friday night. Tomorrow’s Saturday, you can sleep in.”

Sam grimaces. He’d really been hoping to avoid this topic until at least the actual first date, but it’s better to make it clear now before anything else. At worst, it’ll put Ruby off and she will decide to pass up on the date altogether, saving Sam a lot of time. “I really can’t. My daughter has this thing tomorrow-” group therapy, but one bombshell at a time; he doesn’t need Ruby questioning him as to why Leigh needs therapy of any kind- “and I have to be coherent. Can’t go around acting like a zombie, you know?”

Sam braces himself, muscles tense, for Ruby’s rejection. Her hand is still on his wrist, more frozen in place than holding him back. Her mouth is slightly open, eyes wide in shock and Sam thinks he just ruined it for sure, but it wouldn’t be worth it if she couldn’t accept Leigh anyway. It’s not like anything between them could work out if Ruby didn’t like the fact he was a father, and it’s not like he was going to keep Leigh a secret.

“You have a kid?” she asks finally, and she sounds more surprised than disturbed.

“Yeah. Leigh. She’s six years old.” Sam is still braced for the impact.

But Ruby smiles. “That’s so sweet.” She lets go of his wrist, but she’s still smiling and it doesn’t look fake at all. “That is a totally legitimate excuse to ditch. Let’s just trade numbers, and you can go off to catch a few hours of shut-eye before pretending you’re not totally exhausted tomorrow at your daughter’s ‘thing’.” She holds her hand out for Sam’s phone and he hands it over to her dumbly, completely in shock from Ruby’s immediate acceptance. He had been expecting _some_ hesitancy, at best.

Ruby dialed her own number on Sam’s phone, waited until hers started ringing, then hung up, saving the numbers on both phones. She added her name to Sam’s and handed it back, standing up to get to her tiptoes (even in her four-inch heels) to kiss his cheek. “Call me,” she said, giving him a soft look, and Sam really, really liked her.

“I will,” he promised, and meant it.

He found Gabriel waiting for him at the bar, chatting with Kali.

“Congratulate me, man!” he exclaims, sliding into the seat next to Gabriel’s, looping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close, away from Kali- although that part’s not important at all. “Baby boy’s got a date.”

Gabriel smiles at him, but Sam can tell it’s forced. Gabriel doesn’t like Ruby, and it’s all Kali’s fault. Damn Kali. What’s so great about _her_ anyway?

“That’s great, kiddo,” he says, playfully punching Sam’s shoulder. “Now that that’s done, let’s get you home so you can be conscious for Leigh’s therapy tomorrow.”

“Did you two drive here?” Kali asks sternly, eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Gabriel says, smiling brightly at her. “In a big monster truck. With spokes sticking out of the rims. And big, hulking headlights to blind the other drivers. But we’ll probably keep those turned off while we drive, because we like to live on the edge. And _while_ I’m driving drunk, Sam’s gonna be sucking me off, just for the added distraction. My quota is nine pedestrians before we get home. Think we can make an even ten, Sam?” Gabriel turns to Sam now, who’s staring at him as if he’s gone insane. When Sam fails to add something to Gabriel’s fascinating lie, Gabriel turns back to Kali with an exasperated look on his face. “No, we took a cab. We’ll take one back.”

“Good,” Kali replies, completely unperturbed by Gabriel’s psychopathy. She slips off the bar stool gracefully, and Sam releases Gabriel so they can get off their own. She wraps her arms around Gabriel’s shoulders and kisses his cheek, and Sam suddenly finds it hard to keep the minimal liquor he’d drank tonight down.

When Kali releases Gabriel and moves towards Sam, he starts to raise his hand, but she ignores it and pulls him in for a hug as well, giving him a kiss on the cheek too. She squeezes him, his hands resting awkwardly on the small of her back, and he can feel her lips against his ear. “Watch yourself, Sam. You’re a nice guy, and Gabriel really cares about you.” She starts to pull away, but then seems to make her mind up about something and whispers so low he has to strain to hear over the music. “And watch out for Gabriel as well. I worry about him sometimes.”

She pulls away finally, gives him a meaningful look and saunters away, brushing Gabriel’s shoulder casually. Gabriel raises his eyebrows at Sam, clearly wondering what Kali told him just now, but he knows better than to ask. As if Sam was going to tell him. Kali was frightening and not someone he wanted to piss off.

Sam barely feels buzzed, and he thinks that paying for cab fare is ridiculous, but better safe than sorry. And they didn’t drive here, so it’s not like they had a car anyways. He slides in after Gabriel and presses his forehead to the cool glass of the window, hoping to ease the pounding in his head, a symptom of the abrupt change from loud music to sudden silence.

Halfway through the cab ride, Gabriel breaks the silence, speaking softly.

“I’m sorry for giving you shit about Ruby. I just tend to trust Kali’s word above most people’s, you know?” He shrugged. “I guess she can be wrong sometimes.” It was clear in his tone that even though he believed that on some level, he didn’t think this was one of those times that Kali was wrong.

_What the fuck is so amazing about damn Kali?_

“What’s up with you and her, man?” Again, Sam’s words come out a little edgier than he wanted them to, and he’s starting to wonder why the hell that keeps happening. He starts to apologize for it, but Gabriel laughs wryly.

“Oh…the things I could tell you about me and Kali…” His voice grows a wistful, nostalgic tone and Sam is totally blaming the cabbie’s reckless driving for his sudden nausea. Any doubts he had had about Gabriel and Kali’s relationship being purely platonic vanish abruptly.

“Nevermind,” Sam grouses, pressing his face to the window again, his headache pounding harder. “I don’t wanna know.”

“Too late,” Gabriel taunts him, and goes into his story. “I met her in high school. She was my best friend, the first one I came out to. We did everything together. Then, we went off to different colleges and lost touch. When I graduated culinary school, I decided I was going to take my very large trust fund and spend it on travelling around the world, tasting the most exotic foods out there, to inspire me when I started my own restaurant back here. Very _a la_ Andrew Zimmern,” he grinned. “The first person I told about this plan was Castiel. When he failed to talk me out of it, he contacted Kali, who called me to verbally kick my ass. For both being an idiot, and not calling her in a long time. Kali also failed spectacularly to talk me out of it, but we came to an agreement. She would come with me, because she was the only person in the world who could kick my ass when it got out of line. At first, I was pretty insulted that she thought I needed a babysitter, but whenever I think back on it…” He laughed in a way that surprised Sam because there were many things to describe Gabriel’s laughter, but he never thought ‘self-depreciating’ would be one of them.

“I was a real punk-ass kid, you know? Straight out of college, with my big trust fund, and a prep boy upbringing, thinking I was the greatest thing to ever walk the earth- mind you, I’m still not totally convinced that I’m _not._ I was gonna get my ass handed to me out there in the real world. If you’re wondering why my very delicious confections don’t really reflect any exotic things I found in all seven continents- because I did travel _everywhere-_ it’s because I didn’t really _taste_ anything. At least, I didn’t focus too much on the tasting. Kali and I spent our time _partying_ like it was going out of style. There was so much booze and drugs and arrests and sex that those months are still such a blur to me.” Gabriel shook his head, the same self-depreciating grin still on his face. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Wasn’t Kali supposed to keep me in line?” He snorted. “Believe it or not, she did. If she hadn’t been there on a number of occasions to talk me out of stupid ideas and save my ass when my big mouth got me in trouble, God knows where I’d be right now. Probably dead in some foreign land, body lost to the world. For example, there was this one time with a Buddhist monk and a leopard-print Speedo and we were going to- you know what, nevermind. The point is, Kali’s saved my ass more times than I can count.” He laughs softly to himself, but it settles down into a sad little look, staring down at his own knees, and Sam just wants to reach over and hug him.

“I thought I was in love with her for a while,” Gabriel finally says, and Sam doesn’t think he’s speaking to him anymore. “I wasn’t, just stupidly grateful for the amount of times she saved my ass, and probably still loopy from an orgasm, because I’ll tell you, that chick is crazy in bed. But I wasn’t _in_ love with her, even though I loved her like fucking crazy. Still do. She’s my best friend in the world, aside from Castiel. But he’s family, so that doesn’t really count. And…well, aside from you, too.” He raises his eyes to meet Sam’s, a sincere smile on his lips and Sam must be more wasted than he originally thought, because he really wants to kiss Gabriel right now.

Then Gabriel’s words hit him and he realizes… _holy shit._ Gabriel holds him, Sam, to the same esteem as Kali Masterson- dark-skinned, graceful, beautiful sex goddess Kali that had traveled the world with Gabriel and saved his life on more than one occasion. And Gabriel thinks of her and Sam as _equals_ in his life. Gabriel just very vocally proclaimed his love for Kali and indirectly told Sam he felt the same love for him.

There must really be a God, because the cab pulls up in front of Sam’s apartment in that moment and Sam was just about to leap across the seat and press his lips to Gabriel’s.

Sam’s head is still spinning from whatever the hell just happened in that cab that he stumbles slightly on his way to the elevator, and Gabriel catches him with an arm around his hips and Sam pulls away because having Gabriel touching him more than necessary is so not what he needs right now.

“Didn’t know you were such a lightweight, Winchester,” Gabriel teases, leaning against the shiny silver wall of the elevator. Sam just grunts in response, because he doesn’t trust his tongue to make words right now. He’s going through some sort of drunken internal crisis where he thinks he’s fallen in love with his best friend, but he really knows he actually isn’t because that would be a stupid thing to do.

Sam is momentarily relieved of his dilemma when he opens his apartment door and walks in to find-

“I don’t know whether to puke or call my mother and coo with her about this,” Gabriel mutters.

Sam snorts because, yeah, it’s pretty sickening, in an extremely adorable way.

Dean is on the couch, dead to the world, jaw slack. His head is on one armrest, his left ankle on the other one, his other foot planted on the ground. One of his arms is stretched out over his head and the other one is curling over Castiel’s back. Castiel, who is equally dead to the world, is lying on his stomach between Dean’s legs, his head pillowed on Dean’s chest, mouth open and there’s a little dark spot on Dean’s T-shirt that’s probably drool. One hand is curled tightly into Dean’s shirt, the other one probably pressed between Dean and the couch, out of sight. His socked feet stick out awkwardly from where they’re propped up on the armrest.

Sam shakes his head in amusement and yawns, suddenly feeling very tired. “Send me the pics you take, will ya?” he mumbles. “And if you want, you can crash on the other couch.”

“And sleep by the two lovebirds? That’ll just depress me, make me feel all lonely. Can’t I sleep with you?” he pouts and Sam knows he’s joking, because Gabriel’s _always_ making jokes like that, but he really, really wants to say yes right now.

Sam’s lips go dry and he tries to think of some witty comeback, something he might have said before he started having this stupid drunken crisis of his.

After a while of Sam standing there, looking at Gabriel like a dumbass, Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You’re stupid when you’re drunk,” he grumbles and makes his way to the hallway, and Sam thinks that maybe he’s actually going to sleep in Sam’s bed and his throat locks up.

But Gabriel is just going to the linen closet and pulling out some sheets to take back to the couch. Sam breathes easily again.

“Night, Gabe,” he mutters and rushes off to his bedroom before he does something stupid like kiss him goodnight.

Paranoid and confused, Sam locks his bedroom door before stripping and slipping into his bed in his boxers, phone left on the nightstand.

He rolls over in his bed, presses his face into his pillow and tries to relax. His brain is way too overworked and his body is way too tired to make any sort of sense together, so they make an agreement to fall asleep and think about this in the morning.

Seven hours later, Sam wakes from fitful sleep to four new text messages. One is from Ruby, and Sam smiles. Sweet, funny, sexy, beautiful Ruby. Perfect distraction from his ‘Gabriel dilemma’.

It’s a short message: **Tonight at 7, Stefano’s on 3rd st? :).** Sam grins and replies, letting her know he’ll be there.

The other three messages are from Gabriel, and they’re picture messages. He remembers telling Gabriel to send him the pictures of Castiel and Dean that he knew Gabriel would obviously take, and here they are. They’re taken at different angles, to fully capture the sickening adorable-ness. The last one comes with a message that reads: **For future blackmail purposes.**

Sam wonders if they’ll ever get the opportunity to use them.

He rolls out of bed and stretches, finds some sweatpants and tugs them on. In the bathroom, he takes a piss, cricks his neck, brushes his teeth, all the while trying to avoid the direction his thoughts were taking. He knows he wasn’t drunk last night, not even too badly buzzed. He didn’t even drink that much, but it would be better for him if he _had_ been wasted, because then he would have an excuse for his weird feelings. He decides to blame the house special- he never asked what was in it, after all. After the first sip he started feeling weird about Gabriel, so he figures it’s that. Or maybe it was when Kali took him away to dance?

Sam groans, rubs a hand over his face and steps out of the bathroom, deciding that it was all just some lapse of sanity and it’s never going to happen again.

Before he leaves his bedroom, he has a heart-racing moment where he realizes that he’s shirtless and Gabriel spent the night on his couch and what if Gabriel is out there right now? Should he put on a shirt? Would walking around his apartment shirtless with Gabriel hanging around be inappropriate?

 _This ‘lapse of sanity’ is lasting way too long for comfort,_ he thinks as he pulls on a T-shirt.

It turns out he had nothing to worry about since Gabriel isn’t anywhere in sight when he finally steps out. Leigh is at the table, eating a bowl of Trix cereal, tiny mouth opening comically wide to fit the spoon that’s just a little too big for her. He smiles fondly and heads into the kitchen to find Dean, wearing a pair of Sam’s old sweats and one of Sam’s T-shirts.

“Morning,” Dean grunts and Sam notices the coffee maker is filling Dean’s mug right now, which means he hasn’t had any yet and is probably irritable. Dean was never a morning person.

“Hey, man,” Sam replies, opening the fridge to take out the orange juice. _Just Desserts’_ coffee has ruined all other coffee for him, and he was never a big fan of coffee to begin with. “Sleep well?”

Dean grunts again, a sound that Sam takes as a confirmation and he smiles as he sips at his juice. He waits for Dean to drink his coffee, grimacing when Dean knocks it back black.

“Cas and Gabe left an hour or so ago, to open up the bakery,” Dean explains, answering Sam’s unvoiced question and Sam nods.

This is good. He can avoid the bakery completely all day- take Leigh out for her therapy, get her some ice cream, maybe take her to the park, then come back and get ready for his date, stay out late, and not have to deal with Gabriel till tomorrow. He knows he’s being a coward, but his head is really confused about Gabriel right now, and spending some time away from the guy might do him some good.

“Gabe tells me you got a date,” Dean comments, running a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it down where it’s sticking up in weird spikes.

“Yeah,” Sam replies, rinsing out the now empty glass of orange juice and leaving it in the sink. “Her name’s Ruby. We’re going to Stefano’s tonight.”

“Tonight? Want me to take the little brat out of your hands?”

“’M not a b-brat!” Leigh protests as she comes in, carrying her empty bowl. She sticks her tongue out at Dean.

“Yes, you are!” Dean shoots back teasingly, sticking his tongue out too.

“I’m not sure which one of you is more of a child,” Sam grumbles, ruffling his daughter’s hair.

“Whatever,” Dean mutters, placing his mug on the counter. “I have to work overtime at the garage today because Mike’s out sick and I’m alone with Garth.” Sam hissed in sympathy. Garth was nice and all, but he wasn’t the most competent employee in the world. “But leave her at the bakery and I’ll come get her when I’m done. She can spend the night at my place.”

“I don’t wanna st-stay with you!” Leigh says haughtily. “You’re a d-dummy!”

Dean puts on his most shocked face. “Oh yeah?” He ducks down and picks her up, making her squeal and scream as he tickles her. “What’d you call me?”

“A-A d-dummy!” she gasps between giggles and Dean tickles her harder. Sam moves Dean’s mug so it won’t fall victim to Leigh’s kicking feet.

“ _You’re_ a dummy!” Dean retorts, setting her on the floor again.

Leigh blows a raspberry at him before running away, laughing.

“You don’t have to take her overnight,” Sam tells Dean, washing Leigh’s bowl.

“Sammy,” Dean says sagely, leaning against the counter to pin his brother with a serious look. “You haven’t gotten laid in over two years.” Sam glares at him. “Now, I’m not saying you and this Ruby chick will hit it off and she’ll just fall into bed with you after dinner, but I think it’d be a lot easier if Leigh wasn’t around.” Sam’s about to protest, but Dean continues, “Besides, I don’t wanna sleep on that couch of yours again. My back is killing me.”

Sam thinks about the pictures of Dean on the aforementioned couch, with Castiel curled up against him, and snorts. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.”

Leigh comes in a few minutes later, fully dressed and hair brushed, tugging on Sam’s sweats. “Can we hang out with Uncle C-Cas and M-Mr. Gabriel before we g-go?”

They still have a full half hour before they have to leave for her therapy, and Sam bites his lip. He’d really been hoping to avoid the bakery completely today. “Can you take her?” he turns to Dean, sounding a little more desperate than he liked and hopes Dean doesn’t notice.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What, you hungover or something?”

Sam jumps on the excuse a little too enthusiastically. “Yes! Yeah, I’ve got a headache. I was hoping to take some pills and relax for a bit before having to leave. Do you mind?”

Dean shrugs. “Not at all. Let me just go get changed.”

The two leave a few minutes later, bickering and teasing each other, Dean in last night’s clothes. Sam flops down on the couch, the one Gabriel slept in, and groans into a cushion. He’s being pathetic and a coward and he knows it, but he doesn’t really have the courage to be anything otherwise.

He decides to settle this logically, because everything can be resolved with logic, right?

Why would he like Gabriel? What about Gabriel would Sam find even mildly attractive? Gabriel is obnoxious, loud, crude, tactless, sometimes gross, vulgar, arrogant, talkative, has the weirdest taste in music…

But he’s also really, really great with Leigh and she adores him. He can make Sam laugh; he can make _anyone_ laugh. He obviously cares about the people close to him, whether he likes to show it or not. He’s a good brother to Castiel, a good boss to his employees. He can be respectful when people deserve it, he can call Dean out on his shit and match it, he can be protective and strong when he needs to be. He’s someone you can always count on. And his hair looks really soft, despite how it’s always slicked back with gel, and his lips are adorably pouty and his eyes are a gold-caramel color that Sam didn’t know existed in the real world.

And he can _bake._ His food is some of the most delicious confections Sam’s ever tasted in his life. He thinks back on a few days earlier, when Gabriel had convinced him to go to the bar and start dating again. He remembers a comment Gabriel had made about bringing him pancakes in bed and Sam can just picture all the foods Gabriel could make in Sam’s poorly-stocked kitchen. How he would fill it up with numerous ingredients and make him desserts and pastries and how he could straddle Sam’s lap and feed them to him and-

Sam’s eyes flash open and his train of thought stops in its tracks with a screech, his sweatpants a little less baggy than before.

As he hops into the shower, strips his traitorous dick, he thinks about how absolutely fucked he is.

***

While Sam is waiting outside the rec room where Leigh and the other kids have their group therapy, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

It’s a text message from Gabriel. **If you’re going to avoid me, at least bring your date over here for dessert tonight instead of paying for the overpriced shit at that restaurant.**

Sam winces and rubs his neck awkwardly. **Not ignoring you** , he types (read: lies). **But, I have to ask, is this your way of saying sorry for being a dick about Ruby last night?**

Five whole minutes pass and no reply, and he thinks he’s probably just pissed Gabriel off even more, so he sits there, stewing in his own guilt. One of the mothers he’s met before- Sherri, he remembers- eyes him worriedly. Sam’s considering texting Gabriel and apologizing for what he said when he gets another message.

 **I’m man enough to admit I wasn’t as polite as I could have been. I just want to properly meet her and see who’s right: you or Kali.** The message is extremely civil and lacking in sexual innuendos and emoticon penises, which isn’t Gabriel’s usual MO when it comes to texting. For a second, Sam wonders if Gabriel got Castiel to reply for him.

**P.S. That’s not the only thing man enough about me. If you know what I mean. 8==D**

Sam snorts as he reads the new message and rolls his eyes fondly. Yeah, that’s more like it.

 **All right, I’ll bring Ruby over tonight after dinner.** After a moment to think, Sam adds to the message: **And if it’s proportional to the rest of your body, I don’t think I’d be too impressed.**

The reply comes thirty seconds later. **Good. :) And you get a gold star for that burn, Sammich. I’m very impressed.**

Sam types out a quick **Thank you, now get back to work** and waits for a bit, but no reply comes, so he figures Gabriel’s listened to him and stopped texting while on the job.

Leigh’s group therapy session still has thirty minutes left. Sam does not spend that half hour rereading all of his conversations with Gabriel like a teenage girl. He really doesn’t. No matter what the other parents who were there to witness him doing it say.

***

Stefano’s is a quaint little place on 3rd Street, all the glamour of _The Elysian Fields_ with all the simplicity of _Just Desserts,_ although lacking in the former’s volume and the latter’s quality. Maybe Sam is a little biased when it comes to the food at _Just Desserts,_ but he really doubts any place will ever come close to Gabriel’s.

And that’s a really dangerous gateway thought that could lead to inappropriate places, so he pushes them away as he pulls out Ruby’s chair for her. She’s dressed a little less fancy than yesterday, in a little white halter dress under a waist-length black leather jacket that she pulls off and slings over the back of the chair. Her brown waves are pulled up in a ponytail, bangs swept off to the side, opening up her sweet face. Sam thinks she looks absolutely beautiful, and tells her so.

Ruby ducks her head slightly, cheeks slightly pink. “Thanks,” she replies, looking up at him. “You look great too.”

They talk about a lot of things, starting with the basic (‘what do you do, where are you from, do you have any siblings?’) and moving on to the slightly more personal (‘favorite movie, color, book, artist, band, etc?’) and eventually they’re just laughing about their guilty pleasures and most embarrassing moments and Sam hasn’t had this much fun with someone new since he met Gabriel.

And he really should stop comparing Ruby to Gabriel.

Sam was really attracted to Ruby, but- out of some perverse, masochistic tendency- he kept trying to figure out why he was so attracted to Gabriel as well. The two were nothing alike. Ruby is sarcastic and sharp and sexy, with this weird kind of elegance without being too serious. Gabriel is crude and obnoxious and a complete dick, not a hint of elegance about him.

He had to figure this out before it drove him insane.

Halfway through dinner, a new problem wormed its way into Sam’s mind that momentarily pushed the Gabriel one out of the way. During an easy silence while Sam and Ruby focused on their steak and pasta Alfred respectively, Sam felt something nudge the inside of his ankle. He glanced up and found Ruby’s gaze heavy on him, looking up at him through thick lashes before quickly flashing back down to her plate, small smirk curving her pretty, plump lips. Sam swallowed an under chewed bite of steak too hard and chased it down with some of his wine to keep from choking.

Sam can’t keep from remembering what Dean told him that morning- _You haven’t gotten laid in over two years_. If he was going to try to move on emotionally from Jess, shouldn’t he try sexually too?

Sam noticed that during all their conversation, Ruby had never asked about Leigh’s mother. Leigh herself had cropped up in the conversation a few times, but never her mother, and Sam wondered if that meant something.

Ruby was clearly propositioning him, and Sam didn’t know if he should accept. He really did miss sex. _A lot._ And Ruby looked like a fun time, but it was just the first date and what if she-

Sam tried in vain to stop imagining how hard Gabriel and Dean would be laughing if they could hear his thoughts right now. He really did sound pathetic.

Gabriel would be making jokes about taking his man-card away from him. Dean would retort that Sam never had a man-card. Sam was glad the two had such clashing personalities that they couldn’t be in the same room for too long, because if they ever decided to team up, he and Castiel would probably have to move out of the country.

When they’re done with their entrees, the waiter comes by to take their plates and ask if they would like to see the dessert menu. Ruby opens her mouth to say yes, but Sam cuts her off with a smile.

“No, thanks. Just the check please.”

The waiter looks a little confused, but nods and walks away. Ruby raises an eyebrow.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were having such an awful time that you wanted to get out as soon as possible,” she grins. “Should’ve just told me.”

Sam chuckles. “No, I’m having a great time, trust me. It’s just, that I have something else planned for dessert.”

Ruby’s eyebrows shoot up and Sam realizes how that may sound.

“Okay,” he laughs. “That came out wrong. What I _meant_ was…there’s a café I know, best desserts and pastries in the world.”

Ruby doesn’t look totally convinced but still amused, and she shrugs lightly. “All right.”

Sam pays the check, grateful that Ruby doesn’t put up a fuss about splitting it.

They both took cabs, not a surprising choice on a Saturday night in the city, so they take one back. Sam gives the driver directions and he and Ruby lean back in their seats, sitting too close considering the ample room, and chat lightly, making each other laugh and flirting like teenagers. Sam realizes that Gabriel had been right about this whole ‘moving on’ thing. He missed this.

They pull up in front of _Just_ _Desserts_ and Sam touches Ruby’s wrist, telling her silently to stay seated until he can go around and open the door for her. He pays the driver through the window and thanks him.

“Oh, Sam,” Ruby says sadly. “It’s closed.”

Sam looks up and notices the sign on the door reading ‘Get lost! We’re closed!’. “But the lights are on,” he grins.

“Yeah, but-”

“Let’s just see.” He wraps an arm loosely around her waist, leads her up the steps and knocks on the door.

Ruby shifts uneasily on her feet. “Sam, come on, let’s not bother them. They’re closed up, and we’re just going to annoy them-”

The door swings open on her last words, and Gabriel grins at her. “He probably will, but that’s never stopped us from feeding him before, so I don’t see why we should stop now.” Ruby blinks at him and he holds his hand out. “My name’s Gabriel Novak, owner of this fine establishment.”

Ruby takes his hand, shakes it, and clarity dawns on her face. “Oh, I recognize you! I’ve seen you around at _The Elysian Fields_ before. You were there last night with Sam, weren’t you?”

Gabriel nods. “That’s right. You can come in if you’d like. We could leave Sam out on the street like a stray and toss him some scraps. I’m sure he’d be content with that.”

Sam rolls his eyes and nudges Gabriel out of the way. As soon as he’s inside, he notices that his usual table has a fancy white tablecloth draped over it, a single lit candle in the center. “Wow, Gabe. You really went all out, didn’t you?”

Gabriel gives him this kind of _look_. A weird look that Sam would call ‘self-conscious’ if he didn’t know that Gabriel possessed nothing resembling that emotion. But when Gabriel doesn’t answer him and clears his throat, Sam has the troubling thought that maybe Gabriel really _has_ gone all out, and not to make this a perfect date out of the goodness of his heart, but to apologize to Sam for being so doubtful of Ruby last night. The thought makes Sam’s stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Er…before we serve you,” Gabriel starts, “Sam, can I speak to you…over there?” He nods to the register and Sam frowns but excuses himself from Ruby, who tells him it’s not a problem and sits down at the table.

“There’s a little problem,” Gabriel mutters and Sam’s instantly alert.

Before Gabriel can explain, however, the problem is made obvious when Leigh comes sprinting through the kitchen door squealing “Daddy!” and running around the counter and into Sam’s arms.

Castiel comes out after her. “I’m sorry,” he says hurriedly. “I tried to keep her in the kitchen, but she heard you come in, and…well…you know how hard she is to restrain.”

Sam can’t argue that. “Hey, baby,” he greets Leigh, kissing her cheek. “What are you still doing here? You should be at Uncle Dean’s right now.”

Leigh fiddles with the collar of his shirt. “Uncle D-Dean called and said he was g-going to be l-late ‘cause something ha-happened at work…”

Sam turns questioning eyes to Gabriel, who glances pointedly at Leigh and Sam sets her down. Gabriel leans in and says under his breath, “A car fell on Garth.”

“ _A car fell on-!”_ Sam exclaims, but stops himself, because shouting about cars falling on people is not something you do around your five year old, or your date. “ _What?”_ he hisses.

Gabriel shrugged. “I think he’s okay. Dean sounded more annoyed than worried when he called, so it can’t be too serious, can it?” He looks down at Leigh, who’s gripping his jeans while looking anxiously over at Ruby. He pats her head comfortingly. “He said he’d be here at nine thirty to pick her up and asked us to watch over her in the meantime.”

Sam checks his watch. Ten more minutes. He wonders how Leigh will react to Ruby. He hadn’t planned on them meeting so soon.

“We’ll keep her in the kitchen till then, don’t worry,” Gabriel reassures him.

“It’s all right,” Sam replies. “Thanks. Hey, Leigh?” he crouches down to meet her eyes and she looks up at him slowly from where she’s biting her nail beds. He gently pulls her hand away from her mouth. “Wanna meet a friend of mine?”

She shakes her head no and Sam swallows. “Come on,” he encourages. “She’s really nice, I promise. You’re gonna like her.” He holds his hand out and she looks at it for a long moment, still not convinced, but releases Gabriel’s jeans to take it.

Sam straightens up and pulls her along to their seat. She’s chewing on her thumb again and taking short, unsure steps. When they reach the table, Ruby is smiling brightly at her and she leans down.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says kindly. “My name’s Ruby.”

“My name’s Ruby,” Leigh mumbles and Sam’s heart clenches. Leigh hasn’t repeated words in a long time.

Ruby looks confused for a moment, but keeps going. “What’s your name?”

“What’s your n-name?” Leigh echoes softly, not meeting Ruby’s eyes, looking down at the floor. There’s a pause where she seems to forget that it was a question and she’s supposed to answer it. “Leigh.”

“Leigh?” Ruby’s smile brightens. “Wow, that’s such a pretty name. How old are you?”

“How old are you?” Leigh whispers and Sam’s stomach is churning furiously right now. “Six.”

“You’re so big!” Ruby exclaims. “I bet you and your daddy are really close, huh? He talks about you a lot.”

Leigh’s thumb is probably skinned raw right now, but she doesn’t stop chewing. She doesn’t answer Ruby, doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at the floor.

Sam’s just about to suggest to Leigh that she go back into the kitchen and wait for Dean with Castiel when Leigh opens her mouth again. “You’re icky,” she mutters and Sam’s eyes widen.

Gabriel apparently heard her say it and he dashes forward, scoops Leigh up in his arms and exclaims, “All right then! That’s enough of that. Why don’t we leave the two grown-ups to their date and you can keep coloring with Cas in the kitchen, hm?”

Leigh doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about the idea or about anything, too interested in biting her thumb down to the stub. Gabriel tosses them both an apologetic look before carrying her away to hand her off to Cas, who disappears with her into the kitchen.

Sam runs a hand through his hair. “God, I am so sorry about that.” He sits down heavily in his seat. “My brother Dean was supposed to take her but-”

“A car fell on him?” Ruby asks.

Sam lets out a dry laugh. “Uh…no. A car fell on Garth, one of his employees. Dean owns a garage so…he’s probably doing paperwork and dealing with everything right now. He should be by in a bit to pick her up. About what she said-”

Ruby waves it away. “Don’t worry about it. She’s a little kid. They get like that. Especially when they think someone is trying to take their dad from them.” She smiles sympathetically. “Or replace their mom or something.”

Sam gives a small smile at that. It’s the first time Ruby’s brought up the topic of Leigh’s mom, and as much as he would like to agree with her, he knows that’s not the case. That day back in October when Leigh asked him when he and Gabriel were going to get married comes back to him, and Gabriel telling him how Leigh had been pestering him with the same question for a while. Leigh’s not afraid of someone replacing her mom. She’s afraid of someone that she doesn’t approve of trying to fill the empty place. And apparently, she doesn’t approve of anyone that isn’t Gabriel.

Sam wonders if his daughter has known all along something Sam was too stupid to realize.

He really should take Ruby home tonight. It might just be enough to snap him out of this persistent ‘lapse of sanity’.

“I have to ask though…is she okay?” Ruby interrupts his thoughts. “She kept repeating what I said…is that normal?”

Sam bites his cheek. He really wants to say ‘yes, yes it is normal, there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s absolutely perfect the way she is’, but that would sound like a lie even though it really wasn’t at all. Not to him, at least. “Leigh’s got high-functioning autism,” he replies. “Her communication skills are a little awkward.”

Ruby gives him a pitying look and Sam doesn’t like it. “I’m so sorry,” she says, as if he just told her that Leigh has some kind of deadly disease or something and Sam prickles because she _doesn’t._ He doesn’t react though.

Gabriel comes back just in time and Sam orders for both of them, assuring Ruby that she’s going to _love_ it.

They don’t talk about Leigh and Sam makes it a point to steer the conversation away from her if it looks like it’s getting too close.

Gabriel brings them their desserts: some fancy Banana’s Foster Crepes that Gabriel always adds ‘something special’ to (he says that for all his desserts and never answers when people ask him what it is, claiming it wouldn’t be his specialty if he shared it with everyone, now would it? Sam never complained. Whatever it was, it was always ridiculously delicious.). Ruby looks a little intimidated at the size, but Sam assures her that if she can’t eat it all, she can take it home and enjoy it in its entirety, and adds that the extra calories are totally worth it.

Sam always loves watching people’s faces when they try something new of Gabriel’s, and Ruby doesn’t disappoint. Her eyes widen, lips pursed, and she sort of melts with this little moan, eyes slipping shut.

“Holy hell,” she mutters when she swallows.

Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and Gabriel opens it to reveal a harried-looking Dean, large bags under his eyes making him look extremely tired.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mutters and Gabriel steps aside to let him in. He claps Sam on the back in greeting and Sam introduces them.

“Nice to meet you,” Ruby smiles, shaking Dean’s hand. “Sam’s told me a lot about you.”

“Has he?” Dean grins. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet someone crazy-slash-desperate-slash-stupid enough to go out with my little bro here.” He winks at her.

Ruby chuckles. “Good thing I didn’t meet _you_ last night instead of Sam, then. Although I don’t think I’m _that_ crazy-slash-desperate-slash-stupid.”

Sam laughs out loud and so does Gabriel behind the counter.

Dean smirks and nods appreciatively. “Not bad. Nice choice there, Sammy.” He claps Sam’s shoulder again.

“How’s Garth?” Sam asks, genuinely concerned about the klutzy nice guy he’s met a few times.

“Ah, he’s fine,” Dean dismisses. “Got a cracked rib and leg’s broken in three places, but the doctor says he’ll be fine. But this means double workload for me while he’s recuperating.” He runs a hand over his face, looking tired already. “Whatever. I’ll deal with that shit on Monday. So where’s my sweet little slice of pie?”

“Which one?” Sam asks. “Leigh or Castiel?”

“Both.”

Sam grins. “In the kitchen.”

When Dean disappears through the kitchen, Ruby leans over the table to whisper, “That other guy that’s taking care of Leigh…he and Dean are together?”

“That’s my little brother Cas,” Gabriel replies before Sam can. “Sam and I have the unfortunate circumstance that our brothers are dating, so we have to endure their sickening romance twofold. Luckily, we have each other for moral support when we feel like puking up our guts from watching them.”

Sam really doesn’t like the pleasant feeling that floods his stomach from hearing Gabriel refer to any sort of special relationship between them, especially when he’s supposed to be enjoying Ruby’s company and their mutual attraction and not focusing on his attraction to Gabriel.

“Mind giving us a little privacy, Gabe?” he asks, smiling at his friend.

Gabriel throws his hands up in surrender and goes back into the kitchen, calling back, “Call if you need anything. Like a condom or something.”

Sam blushes and rubs a hand over his face.

Ruby laughs. “I like your friends.”

“You can have them,” he mutters miserably, but he’s smiling as he says it.

Dean and Leigh don’t come out through the kitchen, so Sam can only assume they left out the back to avoid any more interaction with them. He’s silently grateful.

Ruby is halfway through her crepe when she asks, “So I take it you come here a lot?”

Sam laughs softly as he cuts off another piece. “Pretty much every day. My kitchen is practically empty because Leigh and I are mostly fed by Gabriel. He’s kind of like our sugar daddy or something,” he jokes and Ruby laughs.

“So you and Gabriel go back far?”

Sam shakes his head. “We met last year, when Leigh and I moved in. We live in that apartment building there.” He points towards the window with his fork and Ruby looks over her shoulder. When she turns around again, her eyes are sparkling.

“You live just across the street?” she smirks, looking up at Sam through her lashes again.

Sometimes Sam can be a little bit oblivious, but there’s no way he misses the suggestion.

“I do,” he replies, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He clears his throat, wonders where he should go with this now or if he should just get it out there, just go straight to the point and not beat around the bush anymore. “Do you want to come over?”

It comes out a lot smoother than he expected.

“I’d love to,” she replies, voice sultry and low.

Sam calls Gabriel, asks him to box up the leftovers of their crepes and says goodbye fleetingly, too eager to get over to his private apartment already.

Ruby’s hand is in his, the boxed leftovers in his other one and they’re smiling so brightly at each other, too immersed and excited in the new prospect, that they barely notice anything around them as they cross the street. Which is why Sam misses the sound a plate makes when Gabriel smashes it back in the store.

***

Ruby is overwhelming.

For all of her petite frame, she overshadows him, taking control and pushing him around. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t find it extremely hot, but it’s just that he’s not used to it. He’s used to being the one pushing people up against walls and tugging on their hair. He’s used to a little more malleability, a little more submission when faced with his size. When people notice how big and strong he is, they instinctively hunker down and let him take control, and Sam loves that. But this is pretty awesome too.

He can’t help comparing her to Jess, though, and that’s really not something he should be doing. But he can’t stop himself from noticing that they are nothing alike when it comes to sex. Not to say that Jess was super cut-of-the-mill traditional missionary all the time, but she was never as forceful as Ruby is.

Ruby rides him hard after she pushes him up against a wall and literally climbs all over him. She pushes herself up and braces her knees against the wall behind him, pinning him back against it with her pelvis and chest and hands while he supports her weight by holding her up by her thighs. She’s deceptively strong.

When they’re completely naked, clothes strewn from the doorway to the kitchen to the living room to the hallway to the bedroom floor, Ruby pushes him down, grabs his wrist and takes them in both of hers and pins them above his head on his pillow. At some point in their long journey through his apartment, he managed to finger her quickly and somehow slip a condom on, so all she does is slide down onto him, one hand aligning him before going up to hold his hands again. She’d probably use only one hand if she could, but hers are rather small and his wrists are pretty thick.

Ruby’s nails dig into his skin, possibly leaving marks there, and her breaths are hot and panting in his ear, teeth scraping harshly along his neck and earlobe every now and then. Sam swears she growls sometimes.

It’s easy enough to regain some power and push up, rip his hands away from her grip and wrap them around her. He’s sitting now, chests pressed together, and her hands are scrabbling at his back, nails definitely leaving marks. She’s still breathing against his ear, moaning and groaning loudly and Sam buries his face in her collarbone, fingers digging bruises into her hips as they move together, faster and harder.

Ruby is overpowering in bed. Nothing like Jess, and Sam can’t help wondering if it’s anything like what Gabriel would be like. He comes with that thought in his mind.

***

**Sunday**

When Sam wakes up the next morning, he’s on his back, sheets pooled around him, brushing pleasantly against his naked skin. His arm is outstretched, pillowing Ruby’s head as she curls around him.

Or…it’s _supposed_ to be pillowing her head. But Ruby isn’t there.

Sam yawns and stretches, supposes she just went to the bathroom.

But the bathroom is empty when he goes to check. So she must be out in the kitchen making coffee or something.

Ruby isn’t in the apartment at all. Neither are her clothes, and when Sam does a more thorough search, he finds that neither are his watch and wallet.

Sam grits his teeth and shakes his head. He couldn’t believe he was so stupid.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” he growls at the empty apartment.

***

Sam picks Leigh up at Dean’s place and Dean immediately picks up on his grouchiness the second he opens the door. Sam’s glad to note that Leigh isn’t right behind him.

“Bad in the sack?” Dean asks, as if that is the worst possible thing that he could think of a date gone wrong.

“I wish,” Sam grumbles. “She was fucking wild.” The situation is made ten times worse by the fact that the sex was _amazing._

“Then why don’t you look happy?” Dean asks, brows furrowed. “You got laid. You’re supposed to feel good after getting laid, not like a bug someone crushed under their boot. Did you get your period or something?”

Sam rolls his eyes. He really doesn’t want to tell Dean how awful it turned out to be, but it’s not like he can keep it from him. Sam’s never been good at keeping secrets from Dean, doesn’t even bother trying to anymore. “Ask me what time it is.”

“Why-?”

“Humor me.”

Dean shrugs. “All right. What time is it, Sam?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaims. “She stole my watch! And my wallet,” he adds, grumbling.

Sam was expecting Dean’s laughter so he’s surprised when Dean actually looks thunderous.

“ _What the hell?!_ ” he shouts and it’s loud enough for Leigh to come running in, palm out. Dean groans and fishes in his jean pocket for a quarter to hand to her.

“Thank you,” she says, then turns to smile at Sam. “Hi D-Daddy!”

Sam smiles back at her, as realistically as he can muster, and leans down to kiss her, letting her poke his cheek. “Hey, sweetie. Why don’t you get all your stuff and we’ll go get lunch at the bakery, hm?”

“Kay!” she squeals and dashes off again.

Sam straightens up, face sobering again. “Yeah. Bitch totally conned me. I knew I was off my game…but I didn’t think I was _that_ bad.” He runs a hand self-consciously through his hair.

Dean scoffs. “Oh, please, Sammy. Don’t blame yourself. That bitch was bad news.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who told me I made a good choice, remember?”

The look Dean gives him makes it very clear to Sam that that is exactly what Dean is so pissed off about- the fact that his judgment was wrong. That doesn’t usually happen to Dean.

“Yeah, but that’s before Gabriel told me all that shit that his friend told him…and then when Leigh told me what she thought about her…I don’t know…” Dean looks absolutely vehement.

Sam pats his shoulder, which he finds ironic considering _he_ was the one who should be being comforted right now. “Gabriel warned me the second I met Ruby…I’m the idiot that didn’t listen to him.”

A whole new thought suddenly dawns on Sam and he groans, dropping his face into his hands. “Shit…when Gabriel finds out…oh my God, I’m never going to live this down.”

Dean snorts. “You are so screwed.”

“You can’t tell him!” Sam exclaims suddenly, head shooting up to look desperately at Dean.

Dean holds out his hands. “Don’t worry, bro. I won’t tell him you got fucked after getting fucked.”

“ _Uncle Dean!”_ Leigh screeches. Dean rolls his eyes as he hands over a whole dollar. ‘Fuck’s and ‘shit’s are worth double than the other bad words.

Considering the personalities of the people in her life, Leigh might never need to be given an allowance and she’ll still have more money than all of them before she’s fifteen.

***

Sam is still in a sour mood when he and Leigh arrive at _Just Desserts_ twenty minutes later.

But apparently, Leigh has enough cheer for the both of them and she bounds happily behind the counter the second she’s through the door and tackles Castiel’s legs as he takes a customer’s order. Castiel, so used to this action, simply smiles and pats her head while working. When the guy moves away, change in hand, he crouches down to hug and kiss her and she goes into the kitchen.

“Coffee, Sam?” Castiel calls to him. Sam just nods as he sits down at his table. He takes out his phone and checks through his e-mails. He considers trying to call Ruby, demand an explanation and his watch and wallet back, but he doesn’t think she’d even answer if he did call.

He shoves the phone back in his pocket and rests his elbows on the table, dropping his face into his hands.

A moment later, there’s a tap on his shoulder and he looks up to see Gabriel in his apron, sipping from a cup of coffee. _Sam’s_ cup of coffee, he notices.

“I take it the date didn’t go so well,” he remarks.

Sam glares at him. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles.

“Kay,” Gabriel shrugs, and sets the cup down in front of him and Sam doesn’t really care that Gabriel’s lips were all over it a moment before.

But when he picks it up, he sees a big ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ scribbled onto the side where the customer’s names usually go. Sam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, infinitely more pissed off than he was two seconds ago, which is saying something.

“I can’t believe Dean told you,” he mutters darkly.

“Technically,” Gabriel says slowly, “he didn’t.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before holding it out for Sam to take.

**dont charge sam 4 food 2day. he ‘lost’ his wallet ;)**

“I figured it out when I saw your kicked puppy posture,” Gabriel adds. Sam’s confused to note that he’s not smiling smugly as he had been expecting. Gabriel just looks kind of dry about the whole thing, as if he isn’t surprised in the least. Sam supposes he isn’t. This is pretty much what Gabriel had warned him about. "Also, your brother needs to learn to type.” He takes his phone back and slips in his pocket.

“Tell me about it,” Sam mumbles as he takes a sip of his coffee. “So yeah. I _lost_ my wallet. And my watch. Which was a gift from Jess. And I really liked it. And all my credit cards were in my wallet. And about sixty dollars in cash and well…” He gives Gabriel the most sarcastic, dry smile the world has probably ever seen. “You were right, I was wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

Gabriel _still_ doesn’t look smug, and that’s starting to annoy Sam. Because Gabriel is _always_ smug. And after a victory like this, he should be rubbing it in Sam’s face like a clown with a cream pie. It makes Sam uneasy, like Gabriel’s pitying him instead, and he would prefer Gabriel’s superiority complex to his pity.

When Gabriel doesn’t answer, Sam just shrugs. “Whatever. I’ll call the credit card company today and have them cancelled. I’d press charges against her but…I really don’t want to deal with that.”

Finally, Gabriel grins, and Sam finds the sight a lot more comforting than it really is. “Don’t cancel the credit cards. At least not till tomorrow. All right?”

“But what if-?”

“Just trust me, all right?” Gabriel insists. “You didn’t trust me before, look how that ended. Trust me this time, kay?”

Sam should be able to argue with that logic- his main argument being that it was _Kali’s_ suggestion not to trust Ruby, not Gabriel’s- but he really couldn’t. Not when Gabriel’s eyes were so sincere and warm. Sam never stood a chance.

***

**Monday**

Sam, like the general population, hates Mondays.

He especially hates Mondays when he went on a date for the first time in two years that weekend and the girl he actually really liked turned out to be a sneaky, heartless bitch. Stealing money from a single father? What the fuck? Really?

Leigh is as bright and chipper as usual, and that makes things a little easier for him at least.

Seeing Gabriel first thing in the morning is also a little bit of a pick-me-up and Sam is kind of scared of that realization.

But then he realizes that the reason Gabriel is one of the first things he sees that morning is because Gabriel isn’t in the kitchen as usual. He’s at the register, in Castiel’s place.

Sam and Leigh make the line and when they reach the register, Gabriel smiles brightly.

“Good morning and welcome to _Just_ _Desserts_ , what would you like? May I recommend a nice, hot, steaming plate of sunshine and rainbows? With unicorn sparkles on top, for added gayety. Pun intended.”

Sam glares at him. “Coffee and chocolate milk please.”

He turns to walk away but Gabriel stops him. “Your receipt, sir!” He holds the piece of paper out to him and Sam narrows his eyes. Gabriel hasn’t bothered with receipts with him for months. That’s what the tab is for. But he decides not to question Gabriel’s insanity and goes to take the receipt from him.

Gabriel doesn’t let go of his hand, and is still smiling beatifically at him. Sam grits his teeth. “Gabriel,” he mutters, voice dark and warning, trying to get it across to him that he is _really_ not in the mood for this.

Gabriel still doesn’t let go and still doesn’t stop smiling. He just glances down pointedly at their hands and Sam looks down too. It takes him a moment, but when he notices it, his eyes widen.

“My watch!” Gabriel is wearing Sam’s silver watch with the personalized engraving on the edge. It’s a little loose on his wrist, too big to fit him properly, made for a much bigger limb.

“Took you long enough, Cro-Magnon,” Gabriel rolls his eyes and finally pulls his hand away. Sam finds he misses the contact. Gabriel unclasps it and slips it off his wrist to hand it over. “Got your wallet, too.” He reaches in his back pocket and pulls it out, handing it over as well. “Your cards are still in there, but the sixty bucks aren’t. She must’ve swiped them. Sorry.”

Sam is too busy gaping at the returned items he’s now holding in his hands. “H-How-?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Kali. Ruby showed up last night. Kali got one of her bartenders to go through her purse when she wasn’t paying attention. She would’ve called the police on the skank, but since you didn’t press charges and it wouldn’t be good for business if she started calling cops on her customers, she just banned the chick from the club. She can’t show her bitch-ass around there anymore or else Kali _will_ call the cops.”

Sam laughs, the first time since waking up yesterday. His week is starting to look up. “Remind me to add that woman to my Christmas list, would ya?”

“We can go shopping together,” Gabriel suggests, smirking.

Sam thanks him again and moves back to the table with Leigh. He finds himself absently twisting the watch on his wrist compulsively as he waits for his coffee. When it’s done, it’s Gabriel who hands it to him, and even though he’s a little hurried with the morning rush, he takes a moment to stop and smile warmly at Sam before moving back to the customers.

Sam fingers the blunt metal of his watch as he sips his coffee, thinking of how much trouble Gabriel went through to get his things back for him. There really wasn’t any reason for it. Sam could have dealt with the situation himself, and after being such a spectacular loser about not listening to Gabriel’s advice about Ruby, Sam hadn’t really deserved it. But Gabriel’s just that kind of guy.

And Sam is so screwed.


	4. Part 4

**MAY**

Sam hated hospitals.

He hated the way they smelled, the way the cold air felt on his skin, the sounds of people talking, asking for help and information, nurses running back and forth, phones ringing, magazine pages being flipped idly a few seats down. Not like the person was really reading anything in the magazine. They were probably too anxious to focus, nervous as they waited for some doctor to deliver news on their loved one’s condition. It was horrible, made his stomach roll and his throat clench.

Sam was sure that if Hell were real, it was a hospital.

More than that, it was a hospital where his six year old daughter was in a room somewhere, surrounded by doctors and nurses, hooked up to scary beeping machines, away from Sam.

Sam looked up at the cartoon character wallpaper that covered the children’s ward’s waiting room. Some looked sinister, mocking his pain. Others looked sympathetic, like they were pitying Sam, and Sam didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be pitied. He didn’t want to have anything to be pitied about. Leigh would be fine, he knew. There was no reason for the cartoon’s pity.

Gabriel sat next to him silently. He had been the one who had driven Sam and Leigh to the hospital, Sam in the backseat with Leigh lying across his lap. She had been unconscious, looking like she was sleeping, and Sam had kept one hand on her neck to make sure there was still a pulse.

It hadn’t been that bad. It had just been a bump to the head. But now she _wasn’t waking up._

Gabriel hadn’t asked for explanations. It was out of pure luck that he had been taking out the trash when Sam had come out of the apartment building, clutching Leigh to him, the little girl limp and looking like a rag doll. Sam’s face was pallid, almost green, his eyes wide and desperate as he made his way to the parking lot. Gabriel hadn’t even asked. He rushed back into the shop, told Castiel to close up and call Dean, Leigh was hurt, and rushed back out. He’d snatched the keys from Sam’s hand as he was climbing into the driver’s seat and just told him to stay with Leigh. Judging by how hard Sam was shaking, it was a good thing Gabriel decided to drive.

Now they were sitting side by side, not looking at each other or speaking a word, just waiting.

Sam’s leg shook, his fingers drummed restlessly against the arm chair. Gabriel noticed out of the corner of his eye and touched Sam’s wrist silently, letting him know that he was still there. Without thinking, Sam turned his hand over and gripped Gabriel’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. They still didn’t say anything, or even look at each other.

Gabriel’s phone beeped and he used his free hand to fish it out of his pocket.

“Dean just picked up Cas at the shop,” he told Sam quietly. “They’re on their way.”

Sam just nodded, lips pressed together.

Castiel and Dean arrived ten minutes later, Castiel’s long trench coat sweeping dramatically as they rounded the corner into the waiting room.

“Sammy!” Dean cried out when he saw his brother. Sam didn’t think his legs could hold him up if he stood, so he just let go of Gabriel’s hand and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Dean’s middle when Dean gripped him, hugging him at the weird angle. When they pulled away again, Dean kept his hands on Sam’s shoulders and leaning over to look his brother in the eyes.

“Sammy, what happened?” he asked gravelly.

Gabriel and Castiel leaned forward too, wanting to hear the answer. Gabriel hadn’t asked Sam on their way to the hospital and he hadn’t asked as they waited. He only recalled seeing Sam touch Leigh’s hair in the car, his fingers coming back with a thin sheen of blood and telling the nurses that she had hit her head when they came in.

“She…uh…” Sam started, brows furrowing, looking away from Dean as if he were looking for the words to describe this situation. “I think she forgot her pill this morning…we were running late for school and I think it just slipped both our minds…I was just washing the dishes and she was in her room and I hear a…a bump.” Sam swallowed and licked his lips. “I called her name, but she didn’t answer and when I went to check on her, she was seizing on the ground, and there was blood on the bed post. She…she must’ve hit her head when she fell…and then she didn’t wake up…”

Dean’s jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbed and his nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply. Gabriel could see him squaring his shoulders, steeling his features, prepared to be the supportive big brother Sam needed right now.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean said, one hand coming up to knock gently against Sam’s cheek. “She’ll be okay.”

Sam nodded, but his eyes were unfocused, as if he wasn’t really listening.

Dean and Castiel sat down on the seats opposite of Sam and Gabriel.

After another few minutes of silence, Castiel leaned forward. “Sam,” he said softly and Sam raised his eyes to look at him. “This may not be the most appropriate time, but I feel you should be warned…Social Services may want to speak to you before you go see Leigh once the doctors are finished with her.”

Sam frowned. “What?”

Castiel took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice was calming. “It’s common procedure that when a child is hurt like this, Child Services come to speak to the parent to make sure that it was in fact an accident and not any form of abuse.”

Sometimes Sam forgot that before Castiel worked with Gabriel, he used to be a doctor.

“As if Sam would ever hurt Leigh!” Dean protested indignantly.

“I know that, Dean,” Castiel replied. “It’s simply how it works.” He turned back to Sam. “I recommend you call Dr. Harvelle, so she can affirm Leigh’s epilepsy. It’s already in Leigh’s medical records, of course, but it will help get them off your back much quicker if they can talk to Ellen. Doctors tend to trust other doctors. Generally,” he added bitterly, mostly to himself.

“I’ll call her,” Dean said, already pulling out his phone and standing up to go by the window, relieving Sam of the necessity to retell the story.

Sam was still looking at Castiel, even though the other man had turned away again. “Hey, Cas?” Castiel looked up. “Why aren’t you a doctor anymore?”

Gabriel fidgeted next to Sam, and Sam knew it was a touchy subject for the younger brother, but he needed something to distract him from the gnawing worry.

Castiel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was fired. Malpractice,” he answered, the word falling out like an insult. “I went against orders to save a young man’s life.” He turned away again and Sam understood that that was all he’d say on the subject.

Dean sat back down and informed them that Ellen was on her way.

Silence reigned again.

It was broken again by two people coming up to them a few minutes later. One was a doctor, tall and dark-skinned, with a kind smile and the other was a shorter woman, hair pulled back into a ponytail and a sleek black pencil skirt, a clipboard under her arm.

“Leigh Winchester?” the doctor asked.

Sam shot to his feet. “Yeah, I’m her dad,” he blurted out. “Is she okay?”

The doctor smiled and Sam could feel the millions of knots in his stomach uncoiling like a snake, his shoulders sagging with relief.

“My name’s Dr. Winslow. She’s just fine,” he said. “There’s no concussion and the blood loss wasn’t too severe. She needed a few stitches, but she’s all better. We are going to keep her overnight just in case of any complications, but it’s just a precaution. She’s currently awake and asking for you.”

There were four simultaneous sighs of relief, and Sam turned to smile at his brother and friends. “Can I go see her now?”

“In a moment,” the lady cut in, stepping forward. “I just need to ask you a few questions beforehand.”

Dean stood up, fists clenched as if he were going to punch the woman if she so much as insinuated that Sam had ever laid a finger on Leigh. Instinctively, Castiel got up too and gripped Dean’s arm.

“Come on, Dean,” Castiel whispered pointedly. “Let’s go get you some coffee. We’ll be back in a bit to see Leigh,” he added to Sam, who just nodded at them before turning to face the lady.

The service worker- Ms. Conner - took Sam aside to the receptionist’s desk. She placed the clipboard on the desk and took out a pen, then started asking Sam basic questions. Sam answered them as calmly as possible, although he was itching to get this over with so he could go see his daughter.

When Ms. Conner asked him to recount the details of Leigh’s accident, Sam took a deep breath and started telling her what had happened. Dean and Castiel came back and Sam saw them stand next to Gabriel, who had been watching him and Ms. Conner speaking. The three of them hovered around, waiting for Sam to finish with her so they could all go see Leigh. Dean took an occasional sip of his coffee, but it was obvious he didn’t really care for it.

“Is there any reason why this young man is standing here and not with his child?” a stern voice said from behind Sam and Sam whirled around to see Ellen, raising a patronizing eyebrow at Ms. Conner. “I’m Dr. Ellen Harvelle,” she introduced herself, pushing Sam aside and holding her hand out to the service worker. “Leigh’s therapist.”

Ms. Conner blinked and shook Ellen’s hand. “Uh…I’m Lindsey Conner from Social Services. I was just asking Mr. Winchester-”

“I know what you were asking him,” Ellen cut in sharply. “And I’ll tell you right now, it’s completely unnecessary. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Sam,” she added, turning to Sam, who was gaping at her in confusion, “Ms. Conner and I have some things to work out. Why don’t you go check on your little girl?”

“Dr. Harvelle,” Ms. Conner protested, “I really think that Mr. Winchester should-”

“Go see his ailing child, who has been crying and begging for him since she woke up, which is as far from the behavior of an abused child as I have ever seen?” Ellen flashed a condescending grin. “I couldn’t agree more. Go on, then, Sam. I’ll take care of this.” She patted Sam’s arm and turned her back on him, dismissing him.

Sam paused, unsure what to do. He turned to look at Gabriel, Castiel, and Dean all of them frowning at him in confusion from across the room. He just shrugged and jerked his head down the hall, motioning for them to follow him.

According to the nurse at reception, Leigh was in the third room to the left. When Sam knocked tentatively, there was an immediate call of ‘Daddy!’ and it took all his self-control not to just burst into the room and gather his little girl up.

He pushed open the door and there was a nurse in scrubs with Leigh. She looked up at Sam and asked, “Are you Leigh’s dad?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, eyes fixed on Leigh, looking tiny and vulnerable in hospital scrubs, propped against fluffy pillows and swathed in sheets with little flowers on them.

“And these are…?” the nurse asked, looking over at Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel hovering over Sam’s shoulders.

“Her uncles,” Sam replied.

The nurse raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t comment. She turned back to Leigh and gave her a smile. “Call if you need anything, all right, sweetie?”

Leigh just nodded, clutching the sheets to her chin protectively. The nurse flashed them a friendly smile as she moved past them and as soon as she was gone, Leigh sat up, arms reaching out for Sam, eyes glistening with tears.

Sam rushed over, leaning down into her hug and letting her wrap her arms tightly around his neck. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “You all right? Were you scared?”

Leigh sniffed and nodded, face pressed into his shoulder.

“I know, I know, baby,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “You are so brave. Such a big girl.” He pulled away to kiss her forehead and smile at her and Leigh smiled weakly back at him, little hand coming up to poke Sam’s dimple. Her eyes found the other three behind Sam and she beamed.

“You all c-came!” she said happily.

Sam moved away from her and went around the bed to sit on the edge next to her, giving them a chance to fawn over her. Dean came up first, kissing Leigh and stroking her hair.

“’Course we came, Pumpkin Pie. You think we’re just not gonna show up when you’re hurt? Come on, sweetheart. I thought you were smart.” He winked at her and she beamed up at him, gripping his hand, fingers curled into his jacket’s sleeve, clutching it like a security blanket.

“Hi, Uncle C-Cas! Hi, Mr. Gabriel!”

“Hey, brat,” Gabriel grinned, coming over to poke Leigh’s nose. “How’re you feeling?”

“My h-head hurts,” Leigh admitted, pouting a bit.

“Really? Well, that just won’t do!” He pulled Castiel forward. “Cas, you used to be a doctor! Anything you can do for this little lady?”

Castiel smiled softly. “Let’s take a look.” He gently turned Leigh’s head to the side so he could examine the stitches, parting her hair around the wound carefully.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Gabriel asked, looking over Cas’ shoulder.

“It looks bad,” Castiel said soberly. “You must be really strong if you’re still okay. There’s an easy cure for the pain, however.”

“R-Really?” Leigh squeaked. “What is it?”

Smiling, Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to the wound. When he pulled back, he grinned down at Leigh. “Better?”

“Lots!” Leigh beamed.

Castiel’s eyes crinkled with warmth. “Anything else I could assist you with?”

Leigh pursed her lips, thinking. “I’m kinda c-cold…my fingers are r-really cold….”

Dean stepped forward. “Here ya go, Pumpkin.” He held out his coffee cup to her. “Hold that. It’ll warm up your hands.”

Leigh took the Styrofoam cup and held it with both hands, letting out a soft, pleased noise as the warmth travelled through her. After a moment, she giggled and stared down at the cup with a big smile. “’S like D-Daddy,” she murmured.

They all exchanged surprised looks and Gabriel immediately went to crouch down next to the bed and pull Leigh’s attention towards him. “Hey? Hey, Leigh? Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s like Daddy?” he asked earnestly. Sam, Cas, and Dean leaned forward, interested in hearing the answer.

“The c-coffee,” Leigh replied, laughing slightly.

“And why is the coffee like Daddy?” Gabriel urged.

Leigh’s shoulders rose and fell, still looking very amused. “Dunno. Just f-feels like him.”

“Is it because it’s warm?” Castiel prompted, putting the pieces together. “Like the ovens in Gabriel’s kitchen? And Miss Zeppelin when you hold her?”

Leigh’s eyes brightened and she turned a gigawatt smile on her face. “Yeah!”

Castiel smiled, satisfied and Gabriel let out a laugh.

“We figured it out! Finally!” Gabriel cheered, straightening up. “You’re like a space heater, man!” he told Sam, who was laughing too.

“N-Not really,” Leigh frowned. “I j-just feel warm…like wh-when Daddy hugs m-me.”

“Huh?” Gabriel’s brows furrowed. “ _You’re_ warm?”

“Uh huh.” Leigh’s fingers curled around the coffee cup tighter, pulling it closer to her chest. “In my tu-tummy.”

Gabriel, Dean, and Cas all looked up at Sam with similar surprised, amused and knowing looks. Sam swallowed and tried to keep his eyes dry as he watched his daughter fiddling with the lid on Dean’s coffee cup.

Sam was allowed to spend the night. Dean went to their apartment and brought them a change of clothes. He spent the night at Castiel’s so they could go visit Leigh together in the morning.

Sam spent the night in Leigh’s bed, Leigh snuggled up against his side, face pressed into his chest and fingers curled into his shirt. Sam didn’t really sleep. He stayed awake, watching her face so serene and peaceful in her sleep, marveling at the warmth he felt in his own chest.

 

***

**JUNE**

**Friday night**

The sweating beer bottle was slicking his palm up, which Sam figured was convenient. He had it propped up against the couch’s armrest, bringing it up to his lips to take a pull as he flipped through the channels, remote in his free hand. His bare feet were propped up on the coffee table, mile-long legs equally bare and leading up to some red boxer shorts, giving him a comfortable breeze. It’s been a while since he was alone like this, and Dean said he’d stay with Leigh the whole weekend. Sam already had an entire schedule of things he wanted to do this weekend, and they all started with this Friday night, alone, half-naked on his couch, looking for the best porn cable could offer him.

He eventually found something titled ‘Cock-Hungry Twink Takes it Hard’. The title was pathetic and unappealing, but Sam had learned long ago to never judge a porno by its title. At least this one was straight to the point and didn’t have any awkward puns or play on words. The description seemed promising enough and Sam selected to watch the preview. It was only thirty seconds and featured a skinny, blonde guy on his back, two big hulking guys looming over him ominously, all of them still wearing their boxers. Unsurprisingly, it cut off just when it was starting to get to the good part and Sam shrugged, figuring it would do. He hoped it was good for the whopping $14.99 he was paying.

It was a whole hour long, which made Sam smile. It was shaping up to be a pretty good night.

Once he pressed Play, he settled deeper into the couch, slouching comfortably, leaving his dick in his boxers for now. It was an hour long, he had enough time. No need to rush things.

It’s only been five minutes in and there are only two of the promised three guys on screen- the blonde twink who is apparently the star of the thing, and one of the guys, the one with short-cropped black hair and the barbed wire tattoo around his bicep. The other guy probably comes in later. They’re making out sensuously, heads angled so the cameras can pick up the way their tongues snake out and move against each other. It’s pretty hot and Sam’s dick is already twitching, which is a clear sign of how long it’s been since he got any.

Last time was Ruby, and it’s best we don’t go down that particular path, okay?

The big guy- his name was Rick, apparently- was sticking his hand down the twink’s- Taylor’s- pants. There was cheap porno music, but it was only background, thank God, and it didn’t overwhelm the heavy pants and little moans Taylor was making, which Sam was really grateful for.

Rick was just shoving Taylor down onto his knees when Gabriel burst in through the door. And no, not the door to the bedroom Rick and Taylor were in, but _Sam’s_ door. Sam jumped three feet in the air.

He hadn’t bothered to lock the door, because what was the point when you’re alone and not expecting anyone to come by and annoy you on a Friday night? Of course, Sam should never have underestimated Gabriel’s spontaneous Annoy Sam Schedule.

However, Gabriel didn’t have his usual ‘I’m going to be really infuriating and bug the hell out of Sam because he made the unfortunate mistake of calling me his best friend’ face on. In fact, he looked pretty freaked out, eyes wide and chest heaving.

“Sam, are you all right?!” he cried out as soon as he stepped in through the door. Once he caught sight of Sam stretched out on the couch, looking completely unharmed for the most part, other than the fact he was currently fighting off a heart attack from being scared shitless, in nothing but his underwear, he straightened up and frowned, hands out questioningly. “Okay, what the hell?”

Sam had the presence of mind to pause the movie before replying. Actually, it was more of an excuse to give himself just a few more seconds to get his breathing back under control so he could speak.

“Shouldn’t _I_ be asking that?!” he exclaimed. “What the hell, Gabriel?! My heart almost gave out, goddammit!”

“Well, I’m flattered to know that I affect you so much,” Gabriel muttered, but it didn’t feel like one of his usual snarky comments. It sounded more like a knee-jerk reaction, a jibe that just fell instinctually out of his mouth because it’s what his mouth was used to producing. But Gabriel was distracted, looking around the apartment, as if searching for something. “Where’s Leigh?”

“With Dean,” Sam frowned. “Why?”

It was like Sam could _see_ Gabriel’s mind skidding to a sudden halt. “….what?” He shook his head, as if the words didn’t make sense. “She’s with Dean? Not _here?_ ”

Sam looked at him as if he had gone completely insane, which probably wasn’t that far off the mark. “Dude, has the heat from the ovens finally gone to your head? No, Leigh’s not here,” he enunciated. “She’s with Dean. Gone for the weekend.Uncle-niece bonding or something.”

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly, looking more frustrated than Sam had ever seen him. “Then why the hell did she just call me, freaking out because you were hurt and I needed to come over _right away_?”

Sam gaped at him. When his brain finally farted out a few sparks to make him coherent enough to speak, he managed out a “ _What?_ ” He ran his fingers through his hair, frowning deeply. “Dean and Leigh left about twenty minutes ago. What phone did she call you from?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, frowning, and pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed a few keys, glaring down at it. When he saw what he was looking for, his brow smoothed out, but he looked no less frustrated. “From Dean’s phone…why didn’t I notice that?” He frowned again, and again it smoothed out a second later when a thought occurred to him. “I didn’t answer the phone…Cas did. He picked it up, and handed it to me, telling me it was Leigh. I didn’t even bother to look at the screen.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “What the hell is going on here, man?”

Sam shrugged. “Why are you asking me? Clearly, I’m as oblivious to this situation as you are.” He gestured down at himself, pointing out that he was half naked, beer in hand, watching gay porn, and not at all expecting Gabriel to just come in through his door like he had.

“Yeah, about that,” Gabriel muttered, looking between him and the TV and back again. “Is this what happens when you’re kid-free for a weekend? You turn into a hillbilly?”

Sam pursed his lips, glancing down at himself. “I like to think I’m giving off a more ‘Dean when he’s fighting with Castiel’ vibe than ‘hillbilly’.”

Gabriel snorted. “Right, if it helps you feel better. Since you’re not dismembered or curled up in the shower crying, I’m gonna get back to work now. Some of us don’t have the luxury of a wank session.”

“Your loss,” Sam called after his retreating back. “I’ll call Dean tomorrow and give _both_ my children a stern talking-to about prank calls.”

“Splooging all over his own hand one day, shaping the young minds of tomorrow the next! You truly are an exemplary American, Sam Winchester.”

Gabriel was just in the doorway when he stopped in his tracks, looking down at his phone in his hand, which had apparently just vibrated. He brought it up to read the message he’d just received, then spun on his heel to face Sam with a dumbfounded look on his face. “Dude, I think we’ve both just been had.”

Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“’Closing the bakery early tonight’,” he read, voice monotone. “’Going to spend the weekend with Dean and Leigh. Have fun.’”

Sam’s jaw fell open. “Is that from Cas?!” he exclaimed. “Did they fucking _plan_ this together? All three of them?”

Gabriel shrugged, still staring down at his phone. “Looks like. But what the hell are they trying to accomplish, though?”

Sam was pretty sure he knew _exactly_ what Dean was trying to accomplish, and his suspicions were confirmed when his own phone vibrated on the coffee table, low beep alerting him that he had a message. It was unsurprisingly from Dean and when he read it, his face turned a beet red and his thumb moved quickly to press the Delete button, but Gabriel was too quick for him.

“Is that from Dean?” he exclaimed, shooting forward to wrench the phone from his hands.

“Gabe, no! Hey!” Sam protested loudly, making a move to take his phone back, but Gabriel jumped back and held it out of reach.

“Hey, this is about me too!” Gabriel argued, looking like he was actually having some kind of twisted fun, which was just like him. “I think I have a right to know why my own goody-two-shoes brother has decided to ‘Parent Trap’ me.”

Sam just watched on in horror as Gabriel read the text from Dean, the smile slipping off Gabriel’s face like water.

**hav fun banging gabe this wknd. im bringing leigh bak 1st thing sunday so b presentable. ;)**

“Gabe…It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just Dean being a dick,” Sam tried, knowing it was a weak excuse.

“You wanna fuck me?” Gabriel asked, voice a mix of amusement, curiosity, and something that sounded disturbingly like awe.

“Geez, Gabe,” Sam winced. “Don’t say it like that…you make it sound so cheap.”

Knowing full well that he had basically just admitted to it, Sam looked sheepishly away from Gabriel, staring a hole into the linoleum flooring.

“So it’s true then?” Gabriel urged and Sam groaned, running a hand down his face, knowing there was no way to talk himself out of this one.

“Well, yeah…I mean, not like that…just…uh….” Sam bit his lip and pushed his hair out of his face anxiously. “This is not how I wanted this conversation to go,” he mumbled to himself. If he was totally honest, he didn’t want this conversation to go at all, but that didn’t seem to be an option anymore. If he had no choice but to have it, he would really rather not have it while he was in nothing but boxers and a pair of overly-oiled porn stars on his TV screen over his shoulder. “Let me just…put some clothes on.”

He shot up from the couch and turned to head to his bedroom, but there was an arm on his elbow, holding him back.

“Now why would you do something like that?” Gabriel asked, voice low, once Sam had raised his eyes to meet his. “I much prefer you like this.”

Sam sighed. “Gabriel, come on. This isn’t a joke. Can you take this seriously?”

“Sam,” Gabriel insisted, grip tightening on Sam’s arm and meeting Sam’s gaze dead-on. “Trust me. I am taking this _very_ seriously.”

Before Sam knew what was happening, Gabriel’s other hand had come up and curled around the back of Sam’s neck to tug him down and meet his lips. Sam didn’t even take a moment to register the fact that Gabriel was _kissing him_ , just surged forward, arms coming up to wrap around Gabriel and pull him in closer.

Sam kissed back with fervor, and Gabriel nipped at his lips appreciatively, smiling against him.

“See, Sammich?” Gabriel said breathlessly when they pulled away, faces still less than an inch apart. “This is me taking this seriously.”

Sam grinned and pulled him in again, pulling Gabriel in so tightly that Gabriel was lifted off his feet so Sam could spin him around and push him against a wall, claiming his mouth with nips and licks. His hormones were already on a bit of a high from the porn he had been watching earlier, but feeling Gabriel, solid and warm against him, had a better effect than those two actors could ever hope to have. What had their names been again? Rob and Tony or something? It’s not like it mattered anymore.

What did it really matter when Gabriel’s fingers were curling in Sam’s hair, pulling him in harder?

“Dammit, Sam,” Gabriel groaned out, gasping slightly for air. Sam didn’t miss a beat, turning to kiss and nip at Gabriel’s neck. Their hips rolled together and Gabriel managed to ask, smug as ever, “You really wanted this, didn’t ya?”

Sam’s hand came up from around Gabriel’s waist to wrap around his neck, pushing his chin up with his thumb so they could lock gazes. “Yeah,” he answered, voice hoarse. “Ever since I met Kali…I was so jealous, Gabe. You have no idea.” As if some vacuum was pulling him in, Sam’s lips crashed against Gabriel’s again, the hand around his neck going into his hair and tangling desperately.

Gabriel’s hands unwound, travelled down Sam’s shoulders and started unbuttoning his own shirt, deciding that Sam was unfairly naked while he was way too clothed. Once Sam realized what he was doing, he got with the program and his hands went down to work on Gabriel’s zipper while his mouth moved down to lick along his recently exposed collarbone.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam muttered suddenly, hands slipping from the front of Gabriel’s pants to rest on his hips. He raised his eyes to meet Gabriel’s, feeling a little of his willpower slip when he saw Gabriel’s swollen lips and lust-blown eyes, but he had to ask. “What about you? Since when have you wanted this? Or…” He swallowed, unsure. “Or are you just going along with it?”

Gabriel grabbed Sam’s face and tugged him in for a harsh kiss, spinning him around so it was now Sam that was pressed up against the wall. “Since the first day you came into the shop, dumbass,” Gabriel growled. “You think I just hand out discounts willy-nilly? I thought you were smart, kiddo.”

Sam didn’t reply, just hooked his hands under Gabriel’s thighs and lifted him up, carrying him. Gabriel let out a surprised noise, clutching desperately at Sam’s shoulders, but then he grinned wickedly, leaning down to kiss Sam again. Sam walked them into the hallway, to the bedroom and dropped Gabriel on the bed. Gabriel bounced slightly and his hands came up to continue working on his shirt. Meanwhile, Sam pulled off his tennis shoes and socks, then resumed on his zipper, Gabriel lifting his hips so Sam could tug the jeans off.

They were both in their boxers now and Sam climbed over him again, Gabriel leaning up to meet him halfway.

They tumbled and rolled on the mattress, gripping each other and licking, nipping at each other’s skin, leaving trails of saliva and lovebites.

When Sam ground their still-clothed dicks together, Gabriel groaned and scraped his nails down Sam’s pec, leaving tracks of red, making Sam hiss as he scratched over the nipple.

Sam found himself being pushed down onto his back, Gabriel started working down his torso, kissing and licking a trail as Sam reached into the night stand for the almost-full bottle of lube. As Gabriel traced the cut of his hipbone with his tongue, Sam called his name.

“Get up here,” Sam grinned. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He shook the bottle pointedly.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you wanna take your time? Have a little fun?”

Sam tugged him up, pulling him down for a kiss and smiling. “We have plenty of time to have fun, Gabe. Got the whole weekend, remember?” With a devious glint in his eyes, he rolled them over and fit himself between Gabriel’s legs. “Right now, I just wanna fuck you.”

They tugged both their boxers off and tossed them away.

Sam hadn’t been with a man in a long time. The last time had been back in college, before he had met Jessica. He still remembered what it was like, how different it was to being with a girl, but that didn’t prepare him for this. Because being with a girl or being with a guy, they were all so different to being with Gabriel.

He knew Gabriel had experience, lots of experience. But what was really overwhelming wasn’t the way Gabriel moved or how his talented mouth devoured Sam’s so beautifully. What was overwhelming was how _right_ it felt. How, for the first time since Jessica’s death, Sam felt like he was in the right place at the right time.

As he pushed inside Gabriel, the other man’s hands clutching at his back and scratching, making little noises of approval and encouragement in his ear, Sam felt like there was an emptiness he hadn’t known was there being filled up. He had thought that for the most part, he had been coping with his new life better than expected, that he was decently put-together and adjusted, but it wasn’t until he had Gabriel in his arms, writhing and panting and begging for more, kissing him and smirking up at him, that he realized just how much he had been missing, just how lonely he had been feeling.

It wasn’t a replacement, it wasn’t a cure. He could still feel the pain of Jess’ loss if he looked deep enough, but for the first time since her death, Sam wasn’t worried. He didn’t feel like he was grasping straws, lost and confused and insecure about what he was doing, struggling to keep himself from falling over the edge of the cliff. Sam felt like the pieces finally fit together, and he let himself fall now. Just from a completely different edge, and he took Gabriel down with him.

***

**Saturday morning**

Sam lay sprawled on his back on the left side of the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. Gabriel was lying next to him on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow he was resting on, dozing lightly. The sheets were draped over his legs to ward off some of the chill, but slipped down a bit over his thighs so that Sam still had a pretty nice view of his ass when he looked.

Smiling softly up at the ceiling, Sam muttered, “So where are my pancakes?”

Gabriel opened his eyes to frown at Sam. “Excuse me?”

“I distinctly remember you telling me that if we got together, you’d bring me pancakes in bed,” Sam grinned, turning to look at Gabriel. “Well? I’m in bed, and there are no pancakes.”

Gabriel snorted. “If I remember correctly, I said that if I were your _husband_ I’d bring you pancakes in bed. Not married yet, bucko.” He yawned, then fixed Sam with a warm look. “You remember that?”

“’Course I do. It’s been one of the most recurring fantasies for me since I figured out I had a big crush on you.” Uncomfortable under the amused look Gabriel was giving him, Sam quickly added, “What did you think all this was for? All I wanted were some pancakes.”

Gabriel laughed, turning over onto his side and pulling the sheets up around them some more, his skin prickling slightly with the cool air. He leaned up, propping his elbow on the mattress to look down at Sam. “So this whole thing- Dean, Cas, and Leigh leaving, getting me in bed, proclaiming your undying feelings of love towards me-” Sam snorted “-that was all for the pancakes?”

Sam fixed him with a warm, soft look, an affectionate smile on his lips. He leaned forward and kissed Gabriel, slow and easy, hand coming up to run the backs of his knuckles gently over Gabriel’s jawline. “Definitely just for the pancakes,” he replied quietly when he pulled away.

“Well, you’ve waited all these months,” Gabriel answered, lying back down on the pillow. “You can wait till tomorrow morning.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, making Sam laugh.

“Sorry, buddy. You’re not gonna be here tomorrow morning.”

Gabriel frowned. “How come?”

“Leigh’s coming back tomorrow morning,” Sam explained. “We gotta maintain some sense of decorum, you know.”

“We’re gonna have to tell her, though. Obviously not with explicit detail,” he added, “but we have to tell her if we’re gonna make this work.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “So we’re going to do this, then? The whole nine yards? We’re gonna make this work?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, as if Sam were being stupid on purpose. “I was pretty sure that went without saying.”

“You really wanna do this though?” Sam insisted. “Dealing with me, my crazy work hours? With Leigh and everything she entails? Therapy, doctor’s appointments, medication, episodes? All that jazz?”

Gabriel’s eyes searched around the room, as if he could find the source of whatever chemical that was being released into the air that was making Sam so stupid.

“Sam,” he started with a sigh when he couldn’t find it, “if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been dealing with most of that for a while now.”

And he was right. Gabriel and Cas were as regular in Sam’s schedule as brushing his teeth. They had been taking care of Leigh while he wasn’t looking for months now, and she had grown so much and so well with them. Gabriel was already their primary source for meals, and he was Leigh’s ride to and from school occasionally.

He was a huge source of support for Leigh. Every time she had a problem with the bullies at school, she’d insist on talking to Gabriel and she’d either cuddle up against him at the bakery and talk to him or cry over the phone. And Gabriel would rub her back and listen patiently and give her advice and tell her she was perfect. It wasn’t that she preferred him over Sam, because she still came to him with any other problems she was having, but ever since that first day that Gabriel picked her up at school, she trusted him with that particular subject.

Sam had seen Gabriel literally drop everything to help him or Leigh.

Gabriel was already an integral part of their family. The only thing that getting in a relationship with him would change would be how they treated each other. And the added sex.

“So,” Sam smiled, after taking a pause to absorb all of that, “about those pancakes…”

Laughing, Gabriel moved forward to kiss Sam, pushing him back down on the mattress and climbing on top of him. Sam had actually been planning on taking Gabriel out for lunch or to a movie or something, starting their relationship with an actual first date.

But staying in bed together the rest of the day was also an adequate way of kicking it off.

 

***

**JULY**

It wasn’t the smell that woke him up. It wasn’t even the sound of the sirens.

It was the nightmare.

Granted, the sounds and smells in the dream were similar to the ones in real life, but Sam didn’t even register those until after he shot up in bed, covered in sweat, a scream on his lips.

_The sirens could be heard from two streets away and Sam’s chest was tight as he drove, repeating the prayer over and over because if he said it enough times, it would be true._

_‘Don’t let it be my house.’_

“Daddy!” That was Leigh’s voice, here in real time, calling out to him from across the hall. What had woken her? Had it been the smell or the sounds? Her senses were so acute…

Sam jumped out of bed, bare feet not even registering the coolness of the floor as he ran.

Leigh was curled up in her bed, blanket bunched up to her chest, fingers in her mouth as she chewed on them.

_Sam glanced in the rearview mirror, caught sight of Leigh in her carseat, clutching the seatbelt with one hand and chewing on the other. “It’s gonna be okay, Leigh. Don’t worry.”_

_Leigh didn’t answer him._

“What’s ha-happening, Daddy?” Leigh asked, voice small and broken.

Sam swallowed down the knot in his throat and gathered Leigh up, blankets and all, into his arms. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Come on.”

The terrifying vestiges of the nightmare- or rather, the memory- still lingered in the corners of Sam’s mind, making him shaky and paranoid, jumping to the worst-case scenario.

The window in the living room looked out to the street in front of their apartment, and the yellow-orange glow that filtered in through the curtains was telling enough.

_The tower of flames came into view as Sam rounded the corner, but they were still one street down. It was impossible to tell from which house they were coming from. People were spilling out of their homes, standing on the sidewalk, huddling together and pointing up at the big cloud of smoke and the spikes of fire that were scarring the clear blue sky._

He pressed Leigh’s face into his neck before swallowing, mustering up the courage to pull aside the curtain.

The big, colorful sign reading _Just Desserts_ was black and charred, engulfed and barely visible through the wall of fire. The flames spilled out from the windows, just gaping holes now after the glass had been blown out.

_The house was still on its feet but there were bursts of fire erupting from the windows, licking up to the panels of the roof._

_As Sam watched, the roof started catching alight. The flames seemed to be impervious to the water the firefighters were spraying on it. There were two trucks, five police cars. The firefighters were running around, scrambling, trying to put the fires out. The police were on the peripheries of the scene, keeping concerned neighbors at bay._

It was definitely the bakery that was on fire, no matter how many times Sam blinked. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, tried to tell himself it was just a dream, every time he opened his eyes, the flames were still swallowing up the place he considered a home.

If the sight wasn’t enough confirmation, then Leigh’s scream in his ear once she caught sight of the building was definitely enough.

Sam’s legs were moving before he realized it, carrying him and Leigh out of their apartment.

Outside in the hall, a few people were muttering, talking about the fire going on just outside.

Mrs. McMillan, the elderly lady that lived right next to them in 5K, the one that had helped Sam find Leigh on their very first day in the new apartment, was out in her slippers and robe, looking troubled.

“Sam,” she called. “What’s going on?”

Leigh was shaking in Sam’s arms, making little noises of desperation against his collarbone. She started struggling against him and Sam knew he had to get out there, make sure Gabriel and Castiel were all right, but he couldn’t take her with him.

“Can you watch her for a minute?” he asked Mrs. McMillan desperately, putting Leigh down on the ground next to her. “I swear, just a few minutes. I need to go.”

When the old lady nodded, looking troubled, Sam turned to Leigh. “It’s gonna be all right, baby,” he whispered. “Just stay with Mrs. McMillan for a little bit. I’ll be right back.”

_Sam parked three houses down. The police weren’t letting him get any closer. He yanked his seatbelt off and threw open the door._

_“Stay in the car, Leigh,” he called back to his daughter. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back, okay?”_

_He didn’t wait for her to answer before he was running down the street, desperate to find Jess._

The lobby was full of curious people trying to get out and see this spectacle firsthand. Sam shoved his way through them, pushing them aside, using his large frame to his advantage. There were protests and complaints all around him, but he couldn’t hear them over the blood rushing in his ears.

Outside, there were people craning around the two police officers at the door.

“Please, you people need to get back in your homes.”

One of them put his hand flat on Sam’s chest as Sam tried to get past. “Sir, please, go back inside-”

“My friends work there!” Sam shouted, fear clawing at his stomach, desperation making his head spin. “Where are they?!”

_“Sir, we need you to stand back-”_

_“That’s my house!” Sam’s throat was sore from screaming, from the smoke coating the air. “My wife is in there!”_

There was a pair of ambulances down the street, a safe distance from the fire and Sam needed to get over there _right now_ because that’s where Castiel and Gabriel would be. If they weren’t there, that meant that they were probably still inside the building that was crumbling before his eyes.

There was a possibility that they had finished cleaning up early that night and had gone home before the fire even started…but that thought didn’t seem to cross Sam’s mind as it whirled in a vicious repetition of ‘they’re not dead’, ‘what if they’re dead?’, ‘they’re not dead’, ‘what am I going to do if they’re dead?’, ‘ _please_ don’t be dead’.

The policeman tried to push him back inside, but Sam was bigger and stronger than him. Maybe he fell to the ground when Sam shoved him, and maybe his partner started swearing and shouting at him, but Sam wasn’t sure because he was already racing down the street, bare feet on the asphalt, wet from the spray of the hoses.

Sam weaved and made his way hastily around another flurry of firefighters and police. Some of them tried to get him over to the barriers between the scene and the public, but they didn’t get anywhere with him.

Sam’s heart nearly popped out of his chest when he spotted Castiel.

“ _Cas!”_ he cried and the man’s head whirled around, eyes wide. Sam rushed over, wrapped his arms around Castiel and hugged him so tightly that Castiel’s feet left the floor. “You’re okay,” he muttered, feeling one of the lead weights fall from his shoulders. Unfortunately, it only made him more aware of the second weight, still very much present, and now feeling heavier than Sam could bear to carry.

Where was Gabriel?

“I’m fine, Sam,” Castiel rasped, letting out a breath when Sam set him back down on his feet. That’s when Sam noticed the policewoman over Castiel’s shoulder, eyes a little wide as she watched them. She had a pad and pen out and Sam realized she had probably been taking Castiel’s statement.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but didn’t feel sorry at all. He turned back to look at Castiel. “Where’s Gabriel?” he asked urgently.

Castiel pointed to one of the ambulances and Sam’s heart stopped, legs moving before he could tell them to do so.

“Sam!” Castiel called him, but Sam didn’t hear him, didn’t look back.

As he sprinted around the ambulance, his mind cruelly supplied the image of a black body bag lying on a gurney, packed up into the back of the ambulance, forgotten and uncared for.

So when he found Gabriel sitting calmly at the edge of the truck, pressing an oxygen mask to his face, Sam’s legs nearly gave out.

“Gabriel,” he breathed, knees shaking.

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up and he pulled the oxygen mask away from his face. “Sam! What are you-”

He was cut off by a kiss. A deep, hungry, desperate, needy kiss. Sam’s tongue snuck in, curled into Gabriel’s mouth and tasted the smoke and ash in there. The younger man let out a broken little whimper at it, licking harder, trying to get the taste out, trying to get to the taste of _Gabriel,_ alive and healthy and _there_.

There was a quiet cough somewhere to their left and Gabriel gently pulled Sam away. Sam tried to chase him, tried to kiss him again, not wanting to let go, but Gabriel chuckled and held fast.

“Come on, Sammich,” he said, voice raspy and grating. “I’m supposed to be _getting_ oxygen, not being deprived of it.” An uncomfortable, dry cough escaped from his throat and Sam’s eyes widened, remembering that Gabriel had been using an oxygen mask when he found him.

Sam’s hand scrabbled for Gabriel’s hand, still holding onto the mask, and pushed it up to his face. Gabriel smiled at him through the plastic, then went back to focusing on breathing deeply.

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmured, running his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, feeling his stomach twist when his fingers came back with a fine coating of ash.

“Hi, excuse me,” a soft voice said, and Sam remembered that someone had interrupted their kiss. He looked and found a shy-looking, mousy girl in a paramedic’s uniform. “Mr. Novak has some minor smoke inhalation, so it’s best he focus on getting some oxygen in his lungs.” She smiled sweetly at him and Sam blushed slightly.

“Right, right, yeah,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I’ll be fi-” Gabriel started, but Sam shut him up with a quick, “Stop talking,” and turned back to the girl, who chuckled lightly.

“He’ll be just fine. As long as he gets that oxygen in him, he’ll be all better in a little bit.” She turned to Gabriel and said, “We called your insurance lawyer for you. He said he’ll be here in half an hour.”

Gabriel nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, still holding the mask up to his face, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. She smiled again, nodded at them, and walked away.

With a sigh, Sam climbed up on the ambulance and sat next to Gabriel. The ambulance bed was facing away from the fire, but he could still feel the heat and smell the smoke. They just sat there in silence for a minute, Sam’s little finger running lazily against Gabriel’s jean-clad thigh.

After a while, Gabriel raised his hand, cupped Sam’s face and swiped his thumb over Sam’s cheek, coming back wet.

When had Sam started crying? Back in the apartment when he’d seen the fire? Maybe when he’d found Castiel? Or in the middle of his kiss with Gabriel?

Gabriel didn’t say anything, which was probably because Sam would just tell him to shut up and keep sucking down oxygen, so he just shuffled in closer and pressed their sides together.

“Jess died in a house fire,” Sam muttered after a while, and Gabriel’s head perked up, eyes wide. “Did I ever tell you that?” When Gabriel shook his head, Sam smiled mirthlessly. “Right, well…she died in a house fire. I had taken Leigh out for therapy. Jess was baking cookies for Leigh, just like she always did. When Leigh and I came back, the house was already up in flames, and Jess was gone. Fell asleep on the couch, faulty wiring, gas leak…they gave me all these possibilities, all these scenarios, theories as to how it happened, but I didn’t see why it mattered how it happened…Jess was dead and the house was destroyed…”

Gabriel’s hand slowly lowered from his face, pulling the mask away, probably to speak, but Sam pushed it back up wordlessly. “Just keep breathing, Gabe,” he murmured, kissing his temple. “Don’t talk for once in your life and just breathe. All right?”

Sam watched as Gabriel’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and then smiled softly when Gabriel nodded.

They sat in silence again and Gabriel didn’t react, didn’t make a sound, when Sam manhandled him onto his lap. Sam stretched his legs out across the ambulance bed and sat Gabriel on his thighs, arm around his waist and face buried in his neck. Gabriel switched hands, holding the oxygen mask to his face with his left and twining his right around Sam’s neck to play with his hair in soothing little strokes.

Sam pressed his nose to the side of Gabriel’s throat, inhaled the sickening smell of ash and dust on Gabriel’s clothes. He found Gabriel’s pulse with his nose and settled there, feeling the rhythm quicken every time Gabriel inhaled, and settle back down when he exhaled. It was relaxing, comforting, to feel Gabriel alive against him.

He’d have to go get Leigh and tell her that her family wasn’t dead, that everyone was fine and no one was leaving her, that they weren’t going to be left all alone again. But Gabriel felt so nice against him, so close and tangible, that he figured he could be selfish for a little while longer.


	5. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

**One Year Later**

There’s a picture frame on a mantelpiece.

In the picture frame is- excuse the redundancy- a picture. It’s a simple picture. One you would find in the wallet of a loving man, creased and smudged from being taken out and looked at over and over again over the course of four years.

That’s exactly where Gabriel found it one day when he’d been looking for a twenty he could swipe for gas. It had been a simple matter of taking the tiny print (and the twenty), driving to the local Walgreens (after filling up the tank with $18.35 and getting a chocolate bar), asking the friendly clerk there for an enlargement and framing (and thank God for Walgreens gift cards because he’d spent the only money he had on him at the moment).

An hour later, Gabriel was driving back to the Walgreens, and Sam asked him why the hell he was going back when he’d just been there. Gabriel claimed to be running short on some made-up, imaginary ingredient that Sam had no idea wasn’t real as he rushed out the door.

The picture was even more beautiful enlarged and Gabriel had to admit he felt an equal amount of warmth and jealousy looking at it. But he smiled at it, tucked it away, and waited till Sam fell asleep so he could sneak out to his car and pull the picture frame out.

There’s a little table by the front door that they have absolutely no use for, but it came with the furniture set they got for the house so they placed it there because it didn’t fit anywhere. Castiel had at least added a little mantelpiece so it looked like it belonged there and wasn’t so awkward. Sam had found an empty vase and put it there, because where else were they going to put it?

Gabriel had moved the vase to the side and placed the frame on the mantelpiece next to it.

Leigh had smiled so brightly the next morning when she saw it, giggling and taking the frame off the table to press a big kiss to it before replacing it, making sure it was in exactly the same position and the same angle it had been in.

Sam had teared up slightly, sniffed, and smiled at Gabriel, who was standing off to the side, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. He had laughed when Sam had swooped in, gathered him up around the waist and lifted him off his feet to kiss him firmly.

Now they look at the picture every day. It’s become something almost routine for them. Leigh waves at it every day as she leaves for school, sometimes blows it a kiss. Sam isn’t so direct, just brushes his fingers along the edge of the table when he passes it by. Gabriel smiles at it sometimes, nods his head at it in acknowledgement.

When she thinks Sam and Gabriel aren’t around, that they won’t hear her, Leigh sits down on the floor in front of the table, crosses her legs and talks. She talks about school, how her cat is having kittens soon, what she’s going to name the kittens, how her therapy is going, how excited she is about working at Gabriel’s new bakery after school. She talks about Daddy a lot, and talks about Papa Gabe a fair amount as well.

“They k-kiss a lot, wh-which is kinda i-icky, but D-Daddy’s sm-smiling a lot m-more, so I gu-guess it’s okay.”

Sometimes Sam or Gabriel walks past and catch snippets of conversation, but walk away quickly, not wanting to eavesdrop on something so personal.

Then there’s that one night that Gabriel can’t sleep and slips downstairs while Sam is snoring away, makes himself some hot chocolate and leans against a wall, sipping at the steaming mug. There are strips of moonlight filtering in through the shades on their windows, the ones the look out onto the street and their neighbor’s houses, each one shaped the same, but splashed with their own taste, their own colors and decorations and personalities. They’re dulled right now, tinted an eerie orange from the lamppost on the sidewalk, and Gabriel looks away from it, eyes catching on the picture on the mantelpiece by the front door.

He’s sipping at his hot chocolate, listening to the crickets chirping away outside, the silence in the house comforting, peaceful. If the house were empty, it would probably be depressing, stifling, but Gabriel has a boyfriend sleeping soundly away upstairs in their bed, and a beautiful little girl that he’s come to love as his own across the hall from them, arm wrapped around her fat, pregnant cat, face pillowed in the soft fur. Gabriel wonders how badly Sam would freak out if Miss Zeppelin gave birth in Leigh’s bed one of these days.

He’s staring at the picture, studying it idly, in a way that you look at things when you’re not sure how exactly you feel about it, when he hears soft footsteps padding down the stairs, too heavy to be a little girl’s.

Gabriel doesn’t react when strong arms wrap around his waist, a firm chest presses against his back, and a soft mouth finds the spot right behind his ear that never fails to make him shiver.

“Can’t sleep, babe?” Sam murmurs, and Gabriel can tell he’s still half-asleep.

“Yeah,” Gabriel replies quietly, leaning back against his oversized boyfriend. “But once I finish this hot chocolate, I’ll sleep like the dead, I promise.”

Sam chuckles, his breath ruffling Gabriel’s hair because he’s still leaning down and pressing his face against the side of Gabriel’s head. He looks up, gaze following the direction of Gabriel’s sight, and his smile slips into something a little sad, a little melancholic, but it’s still a smile.

“I love you, Gabriel,” Sam whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Gabriel’s temple. “I love you so much…and I think she would’ve liked you, too,” he adds quietly, pressing his lips to the corner of Gabriel’s jaw.

Gabriel looks over at the picture, takes a sip of his mug.

Jessica looks back at him, one hand holding her wild blonde curls out of her face so the photographer- Sam, most likely- can get a good shot, her other hand resting against the swell of her large belly, barely visible since the picture is taken from the waist up. She’s beaming, and even though that’s the only expression the picture will ever have, it feels sort of like acceptance, like approval at what she’s looking at right now, and it settles warm and pleasant and just a little sad in Gabriel’s stomach.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I think I would have liked her too.”

**THE END**


End file.
